White Snow: Preparation
by Vhetin1138
Summary: Book 2: Cin Vhetin must protect Jay, the prison escapee under his protection, from the wrath of the Empire while teaching her the fundamentals of bounty hunting. See reviews for full synopsis. Rated T for violence and some language.
1. Chapter 1

A long time ago,

in a galaxy far, far away...

Star Wars: White Snow

Preparation

The story so far:

_Darth_ _Vader_ _was_ _sent_ _to_ _the_ _Imperial_ _world_ _of_ _Corulag_ _to_ _interrogate_ _a_ _traitor_ _to_ _the_ _Empire, a_ _woman_ _by_ _the_ _name_ _of_ _Jayshiea_ _Kolta. Kolta_ _believed_ _she_ _was_ _not_ _guilty_ _of_ _the_ _crimes_ _placed_ _on_ _her_ _head, and_ _Vader's_ _interrogations_ _were_ _unsuccessful._

_Meanwhile, a_ _pair_ _of_ _Mandalorian_ _bounty_ _hunters_ _had_ _also_ _arrived_ _on_ _Corulag_ _secretly, with_ _the_ _intent_ _to_ _capture_ _the_ _commander_ _of_ _the_ _prison_ _facility, who_ _had_ _a_ _hefty_ _price_ _on_ _his_ _head._

_One_ _of_ _the_ _bounty_ _hunters, Cin_ _Vhetin, stormed_ _the_ _prison_ _and_ _captured_ _the_ _commander_ _with_ _relative_ _ease. But_ _along_ _the_ _way, he_ _also_ _freed_ _Kolta, who_ _had_ _been_ _severely_ _injured_ _at_ _the_ _hands_ _of_ _Vader._

_Kolta_ _chose_ _not_ _to_ _flee_ _from_ _the_ _Empire_ _as_ _the_ _bounty_ _hunters_ _suggested. Instead_ _she_ _decided_ _to_ _travel_ _with_ _them_ _to_ _Mandalore_ _in_ _order_ _to_ _become_ _a_ _bounty_ _hunter_ _and_ _punish_ _those_ _who_ _had_ _falsely_ _accused_ _her_ _of_ _treachery._

_Now, Cin_ _Vhetin's_ _ship_ _is_ _en_ _route_ _to_ _Mandalore, home_ _of_ _the_ _most_ _feared_ _mercenary_ _culture_ _in_ _the_ _galaxy..._

Chapter 1: Nightmares and Homecoming

**Mandalorian** **freelance** **transport** _**Void**_**, exact** **coordinates** **unknown, hyperspace** **tunnel** **en** **route** **to** **Mandalore** **system**

Cin Vhetin sat back in the pilot's seat, his feet up on an empty section of the control panel, watching the swirling blue-white tunnel of hyperspace as they blasted their way through it. Many rumors had said that one could go insane from staring at the whirling lights for too long, but Vhetin thought otherwise. He found it strangely calming. He closed his eyes and sat back in his seat, putting his hands behind his helmeted head.

After a few more moments of silence, he said, "Say it."

Rame, sitting in the copilot's seat next to him, shook his head. "I'm not going to."

"Say it."

"You should have more respect for your elders."

"You're only fourteen years older than me. Say it."

Rame sighed, the hint of an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. You were right."

"About?"

"Come on, Cin, don't make be grovel."

"_About_?"

"So the girl wanted to be a bounty hunter, just like you said she would. Whoopdy-freaking-doo. It still doesn't mean she'll want a partner.

"I'm not convinced _I_ want a partner," Vhetin said. "Not yet."

"But you said-"

"I said she would _make_ a good partner," he corrected. "Not that I wanted her to be _my_ partner."

Rame shook his head. "You confuse me, Vhetin. Just like she does."

"What are you going to do? She wants to be a bounty hunter so she can mete out justice to evil, corrupt, manipulative people. I, personally, can't think of a better reason."

"Yeah," Rame said, "but you're also borderline sociopathic, so excuse me if I don't take your view of things at face value. "

Vhetin sighed quietly. "Please put emphasis on 'borderline' when you say that, Rame."

"Sorry," the other man apologized. "But you know I'm right, don't you?"

Vhetin didn't answer, and there was silence in the cockpit. Then Rame sighed and said, "She's still got a long way to go. She may not even have what it takes."

"Did you even read her personnel file?" Vhetin asked. "The girl is smart, determined, and tough. She's used to fighting to get what she wants. I think she'll make it."

"And what if she isn't like Brianna? What if she takes our training and decides to go off on her own, huh? What then?"

Vhetin frowned and sat up, looking over at Rame. "What do you mean?"

"What happens when she decides to go solo and you two find yourselves on opposing sides? How does killing her to get at a bounty fit into your pursuit of 'justice?'"

Vhetin frowned deeper. Rame had a point; he couldn't even count the times he'd had an _aruetii_ bounty hunter at gunpoint. He could, however, count on one hand the number of times he'd actually killed a fellow hunter. He could still even remember their faces.

Rame nodded, satisfied that his argument had struck home. "I thought so. The other day I asked her, 'Do you know what you're doing?' Now I pose the same question. Do _you_ know what you're doing?"

Vhetin paused. He didn't have an answer. Not yet.

"Let's just see what happens," he said, scowling slightly. "It may never come to that."

* * *

><p><em>Who<em> _is_ _your_ _employer?_" _Vader_ _demanded, hoisting_ _her_ _up_ _into_ _the_ _air_ _with_ _the_ _Force. _"_Who_ _was_ _it_ _who_ _transferred_ _so_ _many_ _credits_ _to_ _your_ _personal_ _account?_"

_Jay_ _coughed_ _and_ _clawed_ _at_ _the_ _invisible_ _hands_ _that_ _tightened_ _around_ _her_ _throat. Thunder_ _rumbled_ _overhead_ _as_ _she_ _cried_ _out_ _in_ _fear_ _and_ _pain. The_ _whitewashed_ _walls_ _of_ _the_ _room_ _hurt_ _her_ _eyes, but_ _it_ _was_ _nothing_ _compared_ _to_ _the_ _pain_ _within_ _as_ _Vader_ _slammed_ _her_ _against_ _the_ _table_ _again._

"_Do_ _not_ _test_ _me, captain,_" _Vader_ _snarled, giving_ _her_ _a_ _momentary_ _reprieve_ _as_ _she_ _gasped_ _for_ _breath. _"_I_ _will_ _kill_ _you_ _if_ _necessary._"

"_I... don't_ _know_ _what_ _you're,_" _she_ _gasped_ _for_ _air. _"_I_ _don't_ _know_ _what_ _you're_ _talking_ _about! I'm... innocent!_"

_Again, she_ _felt_ _herself_ _hauled_ _into_ _the_ _air. Again, she_ _felt_ _Vader's_ _power_ _slither_ _into_ _her_ _mind, probing_ _her_ _deepest_ _thoughts, searching_ _for_ _something, anything_ _that_ _would_ _speak_ _against_ _her. She_ _tried_ _to_ _resist_ _his_ _terrible_ _will, but_ _could_ _no_ _longer_ _stay_ _conscious. She_ _went_ _limp, still_ _suspended_ _in_ _mid-air._

_Vader_ _threw_ _her_ _against_ _the_ _back_ _wall_ _in_ _disgust_ _and_ _the_ _world_ _faded_ _into_ _darkness._

_Later, she_ _remembered_ _smelling_ _smoke. She_ _tried_ _to_ _open_ _her_ _eyes, but_ _couldn't; she_ _no_ _longer_ _had_ _the_ _strength. She_ _heard_ _an_ _explosion_ _in_ _the_ _distance_ _and_ _felt_ _the_ _ground_ _shake_ _beneath_ _her_ _feet._

"_Don't_ _worry,_" _A_ _familiar_ _voice_ _whispered_ _reassuringly. She_ _felt_ _strong_ _hands_ _lift_ _her_ _into_ _the_ _air. She_ _wanted_ _to_ _struggle, but_ _couldn't. _"_I'm_ _getting_ _you_ _out_ _of_ _here._"

_Tammer! Tammer_ _was_ _rescuing_ _her. She_ _was_ _safe_ _with_ _Tammer..._

_Later, when_ _she_ _managed_ _to_ _open_ _her_ _eyes_ _the_ _slightest_ _bit, she_ _saw_ _that_ _she_ _was_ _not_ _being_ _rescued_ _by_ _Tammer, but_ _by_ _Vader! His_ _rasping_ _breath_ _once_ _more_ _filled_ _her_ _head_ _as_ _he_ _carried_ _her_ _through_ _smoke_ _and_ _flames_ _and_ _screaming_ _stormtroopers._

_No. It_ _wasn't_ _Vader. It_ _was_ _someone_ _else, wearing_ _black_ _body_ _armor. Who_ _was_ _it?_

_Then_ _the_ _world_ _went_ _ice-cold, and_ _she_ _began_ _to_ _shiver. Once_ _again, her_ _mysterious_ _rescuer_ _became_ _Darth_ _Vader. He_ _knelt_ _in_ _front_ _of_ _her, grabbed_ _her_ _face_ _roughly_ _with_ _a_ _single_ _gloved_ _hand, and_ _began_ _to_ _squeeze._

"_Who_ _is_ _your_ _employer?_" _he_ _asked_ _again; always_ _the_ _same_ _questions, over_ _and_ _over_ _and_ _over_ _again. _"_Why_ _did_ _you_ _betray_ _the_ _Empire_ _that_ _his_ _given_ _you_ purpose_? A_ meaning _to_ _your_ _pitiful_ _existence?_"

"_No!_" Jay screamed, sitting bolt-upright in her cot.

Her gaze wandered frantically around the room, searching for some sign of Vader. But she was alone in the sleeping quarters. Everything was silent, save for the distant hum of the ship's engines. There was no one around her; just the empty sleeping quarters.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Her body was shivering, and the sheets were soaked with cold sweat. After a moment, she lay back on the cot and tried to relax.

Vader wasn't here. It had been nothing but a nightmare.

She could feel it as if she was still there, on Corulag; the roar of the thunder, the feel of Darth Vader's invisible hands as they throttled the life out of her, the loud mechanical wheeze of Vader's breath, and the pain and shock as she was beaten repeatedly, interrogated so she would spit up the name of a man who didn't even exist.

She rubbed her aching forehead. Though her body had mostly healed from the Sith Lord's interrogation, her mind had yet to recover. Every time she tried to get any sleep, she was met with the same dream.

She sighed and sat up again. She wasn't going to get any sleep; at least not for now. She swung her legs off the cot and stood up, heading for the door. She keyed open the door that led to the central corridor of the ship. As long as she was up, she should see how close they were getting to their destination.

For all the determination she'd shown earlier when she'd decided to become a bounty hunter, she did have serious misgivings. The only bounty hunters she knew were these two, and their personalities were radically different.

Rame Omotao was funny and charming. The galaxy had branded bounty hunters as among the lowest of the low, the scum of the galaxy, but as hard as she tried she was not able to convince herself that he was a bad person. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being, something she found very odd from a person who hunted beings for a living.

Cin Vhetin, on the other hand, was a different story. He was quiet and incommunicative, usually only speaking a few words at a time. She didn't get the impression that he was overly unkind, but as far as being a good person, someone she could trust... she couldn't tell yet.

She knocked on the door to the cockpit. After a few moments, it slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing Rame standing in the doorway, dressed in his full-body silver and red battle armor. His helmet was clipped to his belt by some kind of specially adapted hook, and his pistol was holstered on his belt.

"Hey there," he said. "I was just about to wake you up; we're almost there."

He waved her in. "Come in, come in."

As she stepped into the fairly roomy cockpit, she noticed Vhetin securing his black and gray helmet over his head. She frowned slightly; the man always seemed to have his helmet on in her presence. It was like he was trying to hide his face from her.

"You're in for a treat," Rame said, gesturing for her to sit in what seemed like the gunner's station while he took the copilot's seat. "According to our rules, not many _aruetiise_ are allowed down. We're usually a very secluded group."

"Usually?" Jay echoed.

Rame grimaced. "Well, at the end of the Clone Wars, the newly-formed Empire stationed a garrison near our capital to keep us in line. It's a pain in the ass to have them spying on all our business, but..."

"Can't you do anything about it?" Jay asked. She'd heard of Mandalorians being the toughest mercenaries in all the galaxy. She had thought they would just rise up and drive any invaders away.

Vhetin spoke up for the first time. "We've yet to kick them out; our leadership doesn't want to escalate this into a full-scale war. So we've settled for taking occasional potshots at the garrison base and making damn sure they know they're not wanted. Apart from that, it's nothing but passive aggression and frustrated tolerance."

He turned away and began typing commands into the ship's control system. After a moment, the ship began to decelerate; Jay could feel it, even though they were still in hyperspace. The bounty hunter reached up to a long lever, pulled it back, and the ship exploded into realspace.

Instantly, Jay's gaze was drawn to a huge planet off to the right of her vision. Different shades of green and beige were scattered across the planet's surface, and she could pick out two large oceans. Clouds swirled over the darker green parts of the planet, obviously forests and rural areas. Jay could even see a hurricane forming over one of the oceans. Nowhere could she see the huge industrial wastes that had spotted Corulag's surface, or the slate-gray residential areas of planets like Imperial Center; just plain, unfettered wilderness, stretching across as much of the planet as she could see. She could tell why Mandalore was considered a frontier world, and it was one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen.

Rame sighed and put his hands behind his head. "It's good to be home."

Ships of every conceivable make and model darted to and from the planet's surface, like flitterbees traveling back and forth from a hive. _Bounty_ _hunters_ _and_ _mercenaries, probably_, Jay thought.

As she watched, two sleek silver-black fighters – the likes of which Jay had never seen – fell into position next to the ship, performing barrel rolls and erratic zigzagging maneuvers in front of the ship. After a few moments, three more of the same kind of ships appeared and joined their companions in looping and spinning around the ship. As Jay watched, smiling, she was reminded of certain species of porpoises at play.

Rame cracked a smile and shook his head in mock-exasperation. "Hotshots," he muttered. "Never focusing on the darker side of life. For them, everything's a game."

The ships peeled off, spinning and looping around each other before disappearing into the space behind the ship, where Jay could no longer see them.

As she turned her gaze back to the planet, she felt her heart sink with worry. In addition to the myriad of unique vessels making their way to and from the planet, she could also see the familiar shapes of Imperial TIE fighters and the huge triangular bulk of a Star Destroyer floating in orbit.

Rame frowned and leaned forward in his chair. "A Star Destroyer? That's a new addition to the local scenery."

Jay began to feel slightly uncomfortable; it was only a little over a day after her rescue from her prison, she was an escapee, and the Empire was sure to be searching for her. If they found her, it would be back to prison and execution within the blink of an eye. The two bounty hunters would probably suffer an even worse fate.

"Are you sure it's safe here?" she asked nervously as several TIE fighters swerved mid-flight and began heading toward them. Unlike the sleek fighters before, these ships did not look playful in the least.

Vhetin spoke, sounding thoughtful. "The Destroyer is probably just passing through the system. But it does mean we need to take extra precautions."

"And in the meantime," Jay said, tracking the incoming ships, "those fighters are getting closer. You think they want us, or are they just 'passing through' as we-"

Rame interrupted her. "Those ships are hailing us, Cin."

Vhetin's voice was quiet and steely as he said, "Rame, hide her."

Rame jumped into action, standing and saying, "You think they'll board the ship?"

"I don't think so, but it's best to err on the side of caution. Hurry."

The TIE fighters screamed past the cockpit viewport, the sound of their ion drives muffled by the ship's bulkheads and the vast vacuum of space. Rame took Jay's arm and said, "Follow me. Quickly."

Jay had time to hear a voice crackle over the intercom. "_This_ _is_ _Mandalore_ _Imperial_ _Fleet_ _Command. State_ _your_ _name_ _and_ _business. Failure_ _to_ _comply, and_ _we_ _will_ _open_ _fire._"

Then she was led out of the cockpit.

* * *

><p>"<em>This<em> _is_ _Mandalore_ _Imperial_ _Fleet_ _Command_," the intercom voice said. "_State_ _your_ _name_ _and_ _business. Failure_ _to_ _comply, and_ _we_ _will_ _open_ _fire_."

The cockpit door slid shut as Rame hurried Jay out of the room. She would be hidden in one of the secret weapon caches that were scattered throughout the ship, hopefully safe from Imperial scanners.

Vhetin keyed the intercom and said, "This is Mandalorian freelance transport _Void_, inbound to Keldabe airspace."

There was a pause over the intercom, during which the Imperials were probably rethinking their decision of stopping him. If they'd been stationed in the Mandalore system for more than a week, they would know that Vhetin was a respected Mandalorian dirtside, as well as one of the top bounty hunters in the galaxy. Due to his penchant for taking missions that wreaked havoc with the Empire's internal government, his was a feared name across most of the Imperial galaxy. The Empire had never conclusively pinned him to the contracts he'd taken against them, but they suspected.

Be that as it may, not many beings knew him; he couldn't count the times he'd introduced himself and been met with an uncomprehending stare. Vhetin had no complaints about his sporadic infamy as a bounty hunter, and it had actually worked to his advantage on multiple occasions.

_In_ _my_ _opinion_, he'd said once, _the_ _best_ _place_ _to_ _be_ _in_ _the_ _bounty_ _hunting_ _trade_ _is_ _in_ _second_ _place. Fett_ _takes_ _the_ _infamy, I_ _take_ _more_ _of_ _the_ _cash._

As an added bonus, as second-best, not all his bounties ran for their lives at first sight of him. He'd heard of bounty hunters who were famous but bankrupt because their bounties were so terrified of them that they had killed themselves rather than be taken in. Vhetin had yet to encounter anyone scared enough of him to attempt _that_.

The intercom voice finally came back. "What is your business in the Mandalore system, _Void_?"

"Just heading home after some personnel requisition in Hutt space."

_'Personnel_ _requisition'... That'll_ _keep_ _the_ _Imperials_ _on_ _edge_, he thought with a grim smile.

"Confirmed, _Void_," the Imperial said after another long pause. But as he was about to bring the ship towards the planet, the voice said, "Continue to rendezvous point alpha. Were sending the coordinates. There, you will be boarded and transported to Concordia Command and Control. The Garrison Commander has some questions for you."

Rame entered the cockpit once more, just as the Imperial signed off the comlink.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Vhetin sighed and set the ship on autopilot. Once finished, he stood and grabbed his jetpack from the corner and hooked it to his armored backplate. "Is Jay hidden?"

"Yeah," Rame nodded.

"Hidden well?"

"Of course. Vhetin, what the hell is going on?"

Vhetin grabbed his lightsabers from a compartment on the wall and hooked them on his belt. "I think the Imps are on to us. They're going to board us and take me to Concordia for questioning."

Rame sighed and rubbed his forehead. "_Damn_ it. They know about the Luun bounty?"

Vhetin found it unlikely that the Empire could have found out about the kidnapped Imperial General so quickly, but if they'd learned about the Corulag siege... that was a pretty major problem. "I don't know," he said as he headed for the door. "In the meantime, will you take _Void_ in for me?"

"Sure. We'll be waiting at the far for you to get back."

"Don't let the Imps find the girl."

Rame nodded and took the controls, keeping the ship steady as an Imperial bomber headed for their location. The ships doubled as air support and boarding craft. As he headed for the dock room, Vhetin calculated how many troops they might send in to get him. He assumed there would be four, maybe up to six stormtroopers onboard, as well as an officer to issue orders. That was standard Imperial protocol. But the garrison commander stationed on Mandalore was a bit of a loose cannon. He couldn't tell what would happen. If this escalated into a fight... well, in the close quarters of _Void_'s dock room, his lightsabers would give him an advantage, but he would be woefully outnumbered.

_Let's_ _just_ _hope_ _it_ _doesn't_ _come_ _to_ _that_.

Vhetin headed further down the ship's central corridor, keyed open one of the many doors, and stepped into the docking chamber. There was a loud screech, then a deep boom as the Imperial ship locked into the docking ring. Vhetin just stood straight, his hands behind his back as he waited for the ship-to-ship door to open.

When it finally slid upward into _Void_'s housing, an Imperial officer stepped out, flanked by two stormtroopers.

"Hi fellas," Vhetin said. "I'm so glad we have these wonderful little get-togethers. They're truly the highlights of my week."

"Cin Vhetin," the officer said as the stormtroopers leveled their rifles. "You will come with us. Failure to comply, and we will open fire."

"'Failure to comply, and we will open fire,'" Vhetin echoed as he was led into the ship at gunpoint. "What is that, your phrase of the day?"

"The garrison commander has some questions for you," the officer said, repeating his earlier phrase, word for word, tone for tone."

Vhetin sighed as he sat in one of the seats that lined the wall.

_Imperials._

* * *

><p>Crouching in the pitch-black, Jay held her breath, attempting to ignore the overpowering smell of weapon lubricant, ion burn, and engine coolant. The tiny weapon cache she had been tucked into had been cleverly concealed behind a wall in the large engine room. It was so cleverly concealed, however, that it left little room for movement of any kind. Even breathing was a struggle.<p>

She waited, heart pounding as she waited for Rame to come get her. If the Imperials boarded the ship, she wasn't sure what would happen. As he'd hurriedly tucked her into the small chamber, the bounty hunter had assured her that she was safe from Imperial scanning devices, but Jay still had her doubts.

She eventually heard heavy footsteps enter the room beyond. For a moment she tensed, thinking it was a stormtrooper scanning crew. But then she heard the person outside muttering to himself, and she recognized Rame's voice.

The door was suddenly pulled back, flooding the small compartment with light. Rame stepped back, allowing her to exit. "Are you all right?" he asked, his face turned down in a scowl.

"I'm fine," she said, wiping weapon lube off her hands onto her old Navy uniform's pants. "What's happening?"

"We've got a problem," he said, then set off towards the cockpit.

She jumped and moved to hurry after him. "What kind of problem?"

Rame sat in the pilot's seat and took the ship off autopilot, guiding _Void_ down into Mandalore's atmosphere. "The Imperials took Vhetin in for questioning; probably about the whole Corulag deal."

Jay felt her stomach drop. When she'd said she wanted to travel to Mandalore, she didn't mean for the bounty hunters who had rescued her to be punished for her escape. "Will he be all right?"

Rame laughed darkly. "They wouldn't dare touch him; not while they're camped out right on our moon. But if they're questioning Vhetin, that might mean they suspect you're on board."

Jay felt her stomach drop. "Do you think-"

He held up a hand. "Before you say it; no. Vhetin won't say anything to the Imperials."

"And if they already know I'm here?"

Rame flew in silence for a moment, then said, "Once we get you down to Keldabe, you'll be fine. But just... keep your eyes peeled, all right?"

"Okay," she said, strapping herself into the copilot's seat.

When they had broken free of the lower atmosphere, Rame took the ship down over a long, winding mountain range, covered by a forest that stretched on for miles. They flew over the seemingly endless woodland for about five minutes before it finally began to die off, melting into rolling grassland. As they rested a particularly tall mountain, Jay stared down at the spectacle beneath the ship. A river wound its way through an oblong valley, flanked on all sides by mountains and forest. Near the northern area of the valley, Jay could pick out the circular boundaries of a large city. The ship flew lower and headed for the city.

Rame tapped the blue intercom button and said, "Keldabe Ground Control, this is _Void_, requesting clearance to land."

"_Pare_ _sol, Void,_" a raspy female said over the intercom. "One sec... all right, _Void_, you have clearance to land. Omotao, is that you?"

"Affirmative," Rame reported. "What's up?"

"Why isn't Vhetin piloting his own ship? He finally cut off his own hands with them _jetti'kads_?"

"No, the Imperials took him in for questioning."

"'Bout what?" The GC officer's voice was almost conversational.

"They wouldn't say," Rame replied.

There was a quiet sigh over the comm. "Damn Imps; think they own the place. It's getting to where decent _Mando'ad_ _beroyas_ can't even leave the system without their say-so."

"And it's all about one thing," Rame said.

"_Ver'verd_ _bal_ _beskar_," the GC officer said. "Mercenaries and iron."

"Well, what're you going to do? The Imps will meddle and irritate like they always have; it's the way of things."

"Damn straight. And they haven't gotten stupid enough to be anything other than irritating as hell."

Rame cracked a smile and said, "I'm taking her down, GC."

"Affirmative, _Void,_" the GC officer said, instantly back to business. "Welcome back."

They swooped low over the city and headed for a medium-sized air control tower near what was obviously a spaceport, near the edge of the city. Ships of every kind were heading in and out of the area, clogging the airways nearby; there was even a huge boxy capital ship hovering a few thousand feet above the tower.

Jay, who had only understood half of Rame's conversation with the GC officer, said, "So I take it things are getting a little tense with the Imperials?"

Rame shook his head. "No. 'Tense' would have described the situation at the end of the Clone Wars, when the Imps first _got_ here. Now, right now I'd say things are spiraling out of control with the Imperials. You were here; they wanted to talk to Vhetin so they just took him, right off his own ship. And we aren't even officially part of their damn Empire. Legally, they have absolutely no jurisdiction. But does that stop them? Not a chance in hell. Not when there's a profit to be made."

He set the ship down in an empty docking area, bay 319, and killed the power to the ship's drives.

"They ration our incoming supplies, tax our outgoing exports, strut about Keldabe like they own the entire bloody city, then complain about the fact that no one speaks to them. There are rumors that one of the younger officers even shot himself, he felt so unwanted."

He stood and gestured for her to follow, heading for the exit ramp. "It's my opinion that if they want to feel useful, if the want to feel like heroes, they should stay the hell away from our sector of the galaxy. Stay near planets like Coruscant and Corellia, where there are millions of brown-nosers who can fawn over them at a moment's notice."

"I grew up on Corellia," Jay said quietly.

"Ah, well there's always the odd one of the bunch who turns out all right," Rame said with a wink. "But seriously; All it's going to take is some idiot kid to stick a bomb in the Imp Garrison base and _pow-_" he punched a fist into his palm, "the entire planet's under military quarantine."

"I thought you said it was safe here," Jay said.

"Oh it's safe," Rame assured her. "We _Mando'ade_ are a completely self-dependent lot. Most of our imports are minor stuff; secondary weapons, repair kits, foreign foods... But if the Imps slap a quarantine on us, you can bet there'll be some pretty hostile attitudes towards _aruetiise_ planet-wide."

"_Aruetiise_?" Jay echoed. The word came out clumsily, but she managed to copy it fairly well.

"It's a _Mando'a_ word," Rame explained. "The closest translation means 'foreigners', but it's more than that. It means something akin to 'them' or 'everyone else.' It can even mean 'traitor' if used in the right context."

"Right..." Jay said hesitantly. "And I'm an _aruetiise?_"

"_Aruetii_," he corrected. "And yes, but not in the 'traitor' sense. Just in the way that you aren't Mandalorian."

They strode down the ramp and into the circular area of the docking bay. Once they'd exited, Rame began walking around the ship, checking for damage and banging on an external fuel tank.

Jay took a step back and looked up at the ship. She had yet to see it from the outside; she had woken up within the ship after the bounty hunters had sprung her from prison.

The ship was as big as a house, long, and shaped like a spearhead. It rested on eight man-sized landing struts, four on each side. The cockpit was situated high on the ship, near the nose, and the ship boasted six compound ion drives. There were two large cannon turrets fixed above and beneath the ship's center, but they were presently powered down.

The ship was painted a dull, scarred steel-gray-and-purple mix and looked as if it had been through many battles. It looked like some kind of specialized cargo transport. Again, she found herself wondering, _What_ _use_ _would_ _it_ _be_ _to_ _a_ _bounty_ _hunter?_

Rame appeared from behind the ship and strode toward her, rubbing his hands. "Well the ship looks fine. Let's go ahead and give you the grand tour."

They set off across the small docking bay, Rame leading the way. Across the bay were three identical ships, the same sleek silver-black fighter she'd seen before. As they passed, Jay saw the insignia of a tusked skull painted onto the side of each one. What was that? Some kind of gang logo?

She turned back to Rame. "So if things are so bad here, why don't you just drive the Imperials out? You look like you have enough firepower."

"There isn't enough firepower in the galaxy to keep the Empire away for long," Rame said. "And no matter how bad things get, Shysa isn't about to take things to that level."

"Shysa?"

"Our political leader," he said. "Fenn Shysa."

They left the docking bay and emerged into the larger spaceport. Though Jay was able to pick out a few different species - a Twi'lek here, a Nikto there, even a bulky Gamorrean – the majority of the patrons were humans, dressed in everything from simple farming robes to full-body combat armor in the style of Rame's body protection. Of those who wore armor, Jay saw a bewildering array of colors and color schemes. She saw both polished and dull variations of reds, blues, silvers, golds, and hundreds of other colors.

"And how do you feel about the Imperial situation?" Jay asked Rame. She couldn't begin to predict what the man's response would be, but maybe his answer would reveal more about himself.

The bounty hunter shrugged. "I'm neutral on the whole thing. As long as the Imps keep their big noses in their own business, I'm content to leave them alone. But when they try to interfere with our lives, like they did when they pretty much kidnapped Vhetin... well, then I get pretty riled up."

"And is that the general consensus planet-wide?"

Rame sighed. "Things have been going downhill for us _Mando'ade_ since before the Clone Wars."

"What do you mean?" Jay asked. That was an interesting statement.

They emerged onto a busy street and Rame put a hand in front of her to bring her to a halt. "Hold up. It's midday; things are kind of busy here. Let's keep the chatter to a minimum till we get to the cantina."

She nodded silently and followed him as he jogged across the street. As Jay stared around her, she was surprised at how messy and run-down everything looked; there were trash bins tipped over in the street, buildings that were in various states of disrepair. Generally, the entire city around her looked very shabby and ragged. It painted a very stark contrast to the image of these armored mercenaries; she had thought their capital city would have been pristine and spartan.

They passed by a speeder repair shop. The sign was painted in rough, unfamiliar runes that Jay had only seen on _Void's_ control panels. Mandalorian letters, she assumed. A Mandalorian, wearing rust-red and black armor with a symbol painted in white across the forehead of his helmet, nodded to them as they passed.

Jay assumed the messy part of the city was just the slums; every city had them. Places where the lower class of citizens lived, places the bureaucracy were either too afraid or too lazy to fix up. But as they walked along, she just saw block after block of urban decay.

"Is the entire city like this?" she asked quietly.

Rame nodded. "Yeah, we Mandalorians don't stand much for outward appearance."

"So I see." Jay watched as a Mandalorian passed them. The man had bloody red streaks across his armor and a _kama_ made of Trandoshan leather. "I guess it's what's inside that counts, right?"

"Beauty's only skin-deep, sweetheart," the bloody-looking Mandalorian growled as he strode past.

Rame chuckled and saluted lazily to the Mando as he passed. The man nodded in return then disappeared down a side alley.

"You guys sure aren't what I expected," she said.

Rame grinned. "You'd be surprised at how many people say that."

They passed down a thin alley that was littered with trash. The huge capital ship she'd seen earlier passed overhead with a colossal roar, shaking the dirt beneath her feet. She glanced up and saw the ship hovering low over the city, it's belly only hundreds of feet above her head.

Rame didn't pay the ship any notice, however, so Jay just followed. As they emerged onto another crowded, run-down street, he nodded toward a fairly well-kept collection of interconnected buildings with rounded tops. A long rectangular window stretched along one side of the center building and a sign sported the same angular Mandalorian runes she'd seen all over the city. Beneath this, however, were words in Basic.

_UNIVERSE_ _TAPCAF_, said the sign above the door, _NO_ _STRILLS_ _INSIDE_ – _BARTER_ _ACCEPTED._

"A tapcaf?" Jay asked. Tapcafs were basically cantina/motels, usually very low-key and very seedy. She'd stayed in a few over the course of her life, and did not have good memories of them. BlueSend Prison was probably cleaner than this place.

Rame nodded and sighed. "Ah, the good old _Oyu'baat_. The crossroads of Keldabe. Every _Mando_ in the system knows this place."

"What's so special about it?" she asked. "A free grenade with every drink?"

Rame laughed. "Ask for Aramis' _net'ra_ _gal; _it's more explosive than any grenade."

"Hm," Jay said dubiously. "And I'll be staying here?" she asked. The sun was already sinking low on the horizon, painting the sky above it brilliant orange and purple.

"You sound skeptical."

"Will you at least leave me a gun?"

Rame laughed and unholstered a pistol at his hip. He handed it to her, butt-first. "Be careful where you point it."

She took it and quickly checked the ammo counter, tibanna charge, and the general condition of the sidearm. "Don't worry about me; I spent three years with small arms training in the Navy and spent weekends bird-hunting on Corellia before that."

"Nice to know you brought something to the table. It'll make you easier to train."

She tucked the pistol into her belt and covered it with her old uniform jacket.

Rame nodded toward the tapcaf. "Come on. Let's get you settled."

He led her across the street. As they entered, Jay was met with a blast of sound. She heard beings - men, women, and otherwise – talking, laughing, even arguing; there was some kind of loud music playing over the speakers; and above it all, a man was shouting, "All right, all right everyone! Last call! Last call!"

A few of the more inebriated patrons groaned their disapproval, but the same man, who was standing behind the bar, shouted, "No, no, none of that. I have a life too, you know! Last call!"

The bar was filled to the brim with patrons, mostly bulky, armored Mandalorians. They drank, had competitions of strength with each other, or just sat talking.

The man who had spoken earlier, obviously the barkeep, was cleaning a dinged and dented metal drink mug. He was wearing a long cook's apron, smeared with gravy and other stains that looked mysteriously like blood. He had long gray hair that hung to his shoulders and a thin, serious face.

"Aramis!" Rame called, wading through the sea of armor plates. Jay followed close behind, having difficulty getting through. "Aramis!"

The bartender looked up, staring around at his surroundings. When his gaze fell on Rame, he relaxed and nodded in greeting.

Rame fought his way to the bar. Once there, he put his hands on the countertop and said, "I need to rent a room for the night."

The bartender set down the mug, glanced at Jay, and said, "Rame. I'm disappointed in you. Mia's a great gal, and you won't find me keeping your secret."

Rame glanced at Jay, then back to Ume'o with narrowed eyes. "Why you stuck up little..."

Jay glanced between the two, wondering what kind of trouble she'd cause here. She may have already been responsible for Vhetin being 'summoned' by the Imperials. She didn't want to cause any more problems.

But after a moment Rame cracked a grin, then burst out laughing. He reached forward and clasped the bartender's arm at the elbow in a kind of brotherly handshake. "It's good to see you again, Aramis."

"Likewise," the bartender said, smiling only the slightest bit. "I heard about the Imps taking Vhetin away. Bad bit of luck, that."

"Word travels fast," Rame said. He stepped back and indicated Jay. "This is our guest for a few months. I'd like to get her a room here for a while, just till she can get settled."

Aramis nodded and said, "Room twelve is clean and ready for _aruetii_ visitation."

"Thanks, Aramis," Rame said. He turned to Jay.

"I'll be around tomorrow morning at dawn to pick you up," he said. "If you're up to it, we'll start your training then."

Jay nodded, feeling a bit of excitement stir in her gut at the thought of her training beginning so soon. Again, she was struck with the same mix of exhilaration and worry she had felt every time she'd thought of her future as a bounty hunter.

"All right," she said. "I'll be here."

"I'll be off then." He replaced his stylized helmet and nodded respectfully to the bartender. "Aramis, always a pleasure."

The bounty hunter turned and left the tapcaf, disappearing into the busy city.

Aramis swung his washing cloth over his shoulder and said, "I'll show you your room."

He led her up a small set of stairs in the back of the room. It led up to a second floor, a simple long corridor with doors on either side of the hall. It reminded Jay of the interior of _Void,_ except for at the end of the hallway there was a balcony overlooking the city instead of the hatch to an engine maintenance room.

Aramis pushed open the door to Room 12. Inside was a simple room; a washbasin with a large mirror against one wall, a simple cot next to it, a wooden desk on the opposite wall, and a large window covered by thin wooden shades.

"Enjoy your stay," the bartender said, "and if anyone bothers you, shoot off a warning shot first and I'll get someone up here to get rid of them. We're usually a pretty decent bunch, but we occasionally get the random loony."

Jay smiled at the half-hearted joke. "All right."

She followed him back down to the bar, hoping to grab something to eat before getting some rest. Downstairs, most of the Mandos had cleared out, and the few that remained were cleaning up; sweeping, setting chairs up on tables, wiping down eating booths. From what she could see, all those were left were people staying at the tapcaf and the bar staff. Aramis took his place behind the bar and returned to cleaning dishes.

"Get you dinner, _aruetii_?" he asked.

"If it's not too much... uh..."

Jay suddenly realized that she couldn't pay. The Empire had probably liquidated her credit account, and she couldn't risk trying to access it. If someone was watching the account, the Empire might be able to track her to this planet.

For a moment, she considered the sign outside: _BARTER_ _ACCEPTED_. But she didn't have anything to trade, apart from the pistol Rame had given her. She wasn't about to give that away for dinner.

Aramis raised an eyebrow. "Can't pay?"

She shook her head.

"Have anything to barter with?"

"Um..." Jay blushed, embarrassed.

Aramis grunted. "Okay. Since you're Rame's guest I'll charge it to his account."

"No, I don't want to be-"

The bartender interrupted her. "None of that. Rame won't mind, at least not unless you get drunk on _net'ra_ _gal_ and buy the entire tapcaf. Any chance of that happening?"

She shook her head quickly. "Not a chance in hell."

"Then find yourself a seat, and I'll send you a plate."

She was about to turn away when Aramis frowned and scrutinized Jay, eyes narrowed. "Hm... you look familiar; have we had you on Mandalore before?"

Jay shook her head and said, "No, this is the first time I've been on this planet."

"Hm..." he said again. He turned and consulted a kind of wall-mounted datapad behind the bar. After a moment, he clapped his hands and said, "That's it!"

He spun and leaned on the counter, staring at her again. "Jayshiea Kolta," he said matter-of-factly. "Wanted alive for six thousand credits for her involvement in the destruction of BlueSend Naval Base and Prison, Javilion Forest, Corulag."

Jay blanched. The datapad was a bounty database!

She had been stupid to think it was safe here. For all she knew, Rame was trying to gain her trust just so he could turn her in. Her hand drifted to the pistol hidden on her belt. She wouldn't be taken back in without a fight, that was for sure.

A passing Mandalorian, dressed in red and blue armor, saw the motion and grabbed her arm. "Easy there, _aruetii_. Aramis is just messing with you."

The bartender grinned a bit again and said, "You've got quite a criminal record, _aruetii_. Not that anyone around here cares."

"What?" she asked, and pulled her arm from the Mandalorian's grasp. She didn't even bother to correct the bartender's use of her full first name. "What do you mean?"

Aramis frowned. "You've been on Mandalore for a grand total of.. what?"

"A couple hours," she supplied.

"A couple hours," the bartender echoed, "and you think all of us here obey Imperial Law? We've got criminal fugitives right here, in the _Oyu'baat_. No one cares what kind of record you have. Once you're here, the slate is wiped clean."

Jay slowly relaxed. Yes, this was certainly the most screwed-up community she'd seen yet.

_Bounty_ _hunters_ _who_ _don't_ _care_ _if_ _you're_ _a_ _bounty,_ she thought. _That's_ _messed_ _up_.

* * *

><p>It had taken hours for Vhetin to get through all the security at the Imperial base on Concordia, Mandalore's medium-sized moon. But seeing as how the base was situated in the Mandalore system, Vhetin could understand the Empire's want for top-notch security. Mandalorians weren't exactly lovers of Imperial rule, and had lots of guns to back up their opinion.<p>

He underwent voiceprint scans, palm scans, security posts where he was forced to turn in all his weapons, which constituted almost 40 percent of his armor. When he proceeded to one of the final checkpoints, the retinal scanner, he flat-out refused to take it and was almost taken into custody. Eventually, the situation degraded into a flat-out fight, one for which the stormtroopers were woefully unprepared.

"Sir," the weaponless stormtrooper said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I must insist-"

"Don't you know anything about us?" Vhetin asked, calmly holding the trooper's weapon. "How impolite it is to tell a Mando to remove his helmet? Even more so to _force_ him to remove his helmet?"

An officer appeared through a side door. Vhetin swiveled to face the officer, and the man started, holding his hands up in a placating posture.

"Sir," he said, "the garrison commander has cleared you for access. You can go through."

Vhetin straightened and tossed the weapon back to the trooper. "Next time, don't be so insistent. You don't know the power of the word 'please.' I still wouldn't have taken off my helmet, but you would have had a much nicer time."

One of the troopers – one of the few who had wisely stayed out of the fight – snickered behind his helmet.

Then Vhetin followed the officer beyond the security station and deeper into the outpost. After one more station that they passed, Vhetin found himself in the all-too-familiar area of the garrison commander's office.

The commander himself, a portly man by the name of Ne'al Utam, looked up from his paperwork. When he saw Vhetin being escorted in a sneer crossed his face. He stood and gestured with a meaty hand at the officer.

"Leave us."

The officer saluted, spun on his heel, and left the room. Vhetin watched him leave, arms folded across his chest. After a moment, he turned back to Utam.

The garrison commander scowled deeper and faced the large window overlooking a typical Concordian desert valley. The Imperials apparently thought it was aesthetically pleasing; to Vhetin, it just looked dry and dead. He could see why it would attract an Imperial's liking.

Utam finally spoke in his reedy, weak-sounding voice. "Your appointment has put me at quite a large inconvenience. I have a meeting I must attend onboard the _Triumphant_ in orbit and I shall now almost certainly be late."

Vhetin sighed. He disliked Utam more and more with every time he met the man. "Sorry if I'm intruding on your busy schedule, Commander," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "but you called me here, not the other way around."

Utam turned back to him, his face turning down in a scowl. "Yes… Tell me, bounty hunter, have you been paying attention to the HoloNet recently?"

"I've been in hyperspace for the last day, so no," he replied.

"Hm," Utam sounded disappointed. "Well, it has just come to my attention that a top-secret naval base on Corulag came under attack a few days ago."

"Really?" Vhetin asked, deadpan.

Utam scowled deeper. "The security cameras happen to show one Captain Tammer driving off a Mandalorian who's armor profile almost exactly matches your own."

"Almost," Vhetin repeated.

"Yes, almost," Utam said.

"Well, Commander," Vhetin said, "I'm not sure if I'm up to scratch with Imperial investigative protocol, but I don't think 'it almost looks like him,' is grounds for arrest."

"You misunderstand. I haven't brought you here to arrest you." Utam turned and stared at him, hands still clasped behind his back. "I am just offering you a warning: I am on to you."

"Remember that little detail called evidence, Commander," Vhetin said, unable to keep the condescension out of his tone.

"Evidence?" Utam growled, pulling open a drawer in his desk and pulling out a fat filing folder full of flimsi. "Evidence? How is this for evidence?"

He slapped the file on the desk and pulled it open. He took out a flimsi and began reading.

"Imperial Center, four years ago: black-armored Mandalorian breaks into Imperial medcenter and steals a prototype genetic virus targeting the inhabitants of the rebellious system Tarishaw as well as all related data regarding the virus. The virus and all the data was never seen again.

"Manaan, two years ago: visiting Imperial Admiral is kidnapped from the Imperial base established there by a black-armored Mandalorian. The very same Admiral was found several months later, enslaved to a Black Sun operative.

"Nar Shadda, four months ago: an undercover Imperial agent attempting to infiltrate Black Sun was found critically paralyzed in a back alley of the planet's underworld. He had been shot in the neck with a Dathomiri saberdart infused with venom that would most probably match the venom _you_ yourself utilize. But as it is, you have refused to relinquish your weapons for analysis; a very suspicious occurrence if you ask me."

"To some extent, a bounty hunter is like a magician," Vhetin said, having carefully thought out his response to just this kind of question. "I won't allow my methods to leak out. If I did, I'd have a thousand beings copying my hunting style within the week."

Utam tapped the folder. "I have over one hundred different occurrences linking you to potential rebellious employers. And if-"

Vhetin interrupted forcefully. "I can't be held responsible for every 'crime' committed by a Mandalorian in black armor."

"Well-"

He interrupted again. "And are you going to make an arrest because of armor style? Because it doesn't matter how many planets are under your supervision, commander, a case based solely on profiling still won't stand up under fire."

Utam slammed his fist on the desk, sputtering out the holographic words on a few sheets of flimsiplast. "Damn it, Vhetin! I have overwhelming evidence that points to you as a rebel sympathizer, at worst a traitor and a terrorist, never mind the fact that the Empire wants you arrested _already_! And if I can ever prove _any_ of these suspicions, I'll personally appoint myself as your executioner."

Vhetin chuckled dryly. "Tell you what, Utam; if that day ever comes, I'll come quietly if you can catch me."

Utam's face began to turn a satisfying shade of purple. His hands were quivering as he balled them into fists and sat in his chair once more.

"Let's get something straight, shall we?" He snapped, "I don't like you. And I know for a fact that you don't like me."

"Is that on a personal level or generally, sir? Because – and I hate to break this to you – but there are _lots_ of people who don't like you. Lots of people with really big guns."

Utam narrowed his eyes. "Is that a threat?"

"A simple observation of your current popularity ranking on Mandalore," Vhetin replied. "Now was there some other reason you called me up here besides pointing out all the trouble my fellow black-armored _vode_ are stirring up within your marvelously moronic Empire? Because I've got more important things to do."

"Funnily enough, there was another reason," Utam said, finally looking pleased. "All the prisoners and staff at the BlueSend prison are accounted for save for two: General Ponsius Luun, the suspected target, and one Jayshiea Kolta, a Death Row prisoner. Now this '_vode_' of yours-"

_Vod_, Vhetin mentally corrected the Imperial, rolling his eyes.

"-seems to have kidnapped the General and taken him to Force-knows where. But this Kolta woman is nowhere to be found."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Did you smuggle her to your precious haven, Mandalore? Trying to keep her safe from us?"

Vhetin sighed. "Sir, try to stay focused. We've already established that it can't be proven I was there. And you can check with the bomber crew that picked me up from my ship; there were only two life-forms aboard."

Vhetin thanked the fact that he had those hidden weapons caches; anything hidden within was shielded from Imperial scanners. Any kind of scanner, in fact.

"Who was the other life form?" Utam demanded, beginning to turn purple again.

"My copilot, Rame Omotao. He brought the ship down after I left. And if my word isn't good enough for you, you can always ask your goons down in Keldabe Ground Control who're supervising the _real_ GC officers."

Utam was so furious that he looked as if his head was about to explode. Vhetin had to hold back a laugh, instead nonchalantly asking, "Is there anything else? Because as it is, I'm looking at another five hours getting back through security."

Utam's clenched fists were shaking as he growled, "Get out."

Vhetin saluted lazily as he turned and headed for the door. Once there, he paused and turned back to the commander. "Oh and I'll need a lift to Keldabe, since you didn't even give me the courtesy of flying my own ship up here."

The door slid shut on a furious Commander Utam, and Vhetin smiled with satisfaction. Another sunset, another Imperial outwitted; with this streak, he should be able to strike the Empire a serious blow within a few hundred years. He laughed within the confines of his helmet.

But the important thing was that he and Rame were in the clear, and his new guest, Jay, was safe from Imperial suspicion.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Training Begins

_**Oyu'baat**_ **tapcaf, Keldabe, Mandalore**

Jay rose early, eager to get out of the decaying city and into the more rural areas of the planet that she'd seen from orbit. Rame had told her that she would begin training today, if she was up to it.

She was exhausted, mentally strained, and still a little sore from the events on Corulag, but she wasn't about to let that slow her down. Anything that could help her get back at the people who'd branded her a traitor was worthwhile, and she wasn't about to turn in down.

She dressed quickly and gathered her miniscule amount of belongings, tucking her borrowed pistol back into her belt and covering it with her old uniform jacket, now stripped of its ranking bars.

She glanced at a chrono on the wall; apparently it was still pretty early in the morning. As she left, she glanced down at the balcony at the end of the hall. The distant horizon was just beginning to show the first traces of dawn. Most people she knew would either still be asleep or just rolling out of bed.

But as she headed down into the cantina below, she saw that here, the day was already well underway. The cantina's main room was once again crowded with Mandalorians, armored and unarmored alike. A beat-up holo-monitor near the ceiling in once corner was showing what looked like the local news, spoken in a language she couldn't understand. A human male was giving a report about what looked like the outpost siege on Corulag. As it showed the blurry image of a man in Mandalorian armor sitting on the branch of a tree, the room broke out in scattered cheers and applause. She heard several repeated words like "_Oya_," and "_Kandosii, Ram'ika_." Then the news chanced to what looked like a sports description, which drew much more attention than the report of the outpost siege.

As she approached the bar, Aramis looked up, still wiping down the same cup as the night before. "Mornin'. Get you breakfast, _aruetii_?"

She shook her head and said quietly, "Have you seen Rame Omotao? Silver armor, red trim? He was supposed to meet me here."

Aramis shook his head, his long gray hair waving back and forth as he did. "He isn't here. He's got some farm issues to clear up, so he sent Vhetin to pick you up instead. He's waiting for you over there, in the back corner."

He leaned forward and quietly added, "If you're going to train with Vhetin, though… you're definitely going to want a good breakfast in you. Give you more strength."

She didn't like the ominous sound of the words, but decided it was just the bartender trying to psych her out. She said, "Okay. Have you at least got some clean dishes?"

For the first time since she'd met him, for what looked like the first time in years, Aramis' intense face broke into a wide grin.

"I do," he said. "But it'll cost extra."

Jay found herself grinning back and said, "I'll take whatever is easiest to cook, but still edible."

He nodded and jerked his head toward the tables. "I'll bring it over when you're done talking. In the meantime, you'd better get going. You don't want to keep Stripes waiting."

She nodded and wader her way through the sea of armor towards the back corner table. Before she got close, however, she decided to hide in the crowd and search for the Mandalorian.

It didn't take long to find him. He stood out, even among his fellow mercenaries.

He was sitting at a table near the northern wall of the tapcaf, fully armored, next to the large fireplace. His arms were folded across his chest and he was staring out into the crowd absently, one foot resting against the edge of the tabletop. His foot bounced against the table slightly, as if to the beat of music.

Something about him still made Jay uncomfortable, and it was apparently no secret; even a few other Mandalorians were giving the hunter a fairly wide berth. A few gave him quiet greetings, to which he nodded slowly in return.

He didn't seem to notice her approaching, and just stared out into the crowd, looking as if he was carved from duracrete. However, after a moment, his gaze shifted to her hiding spot in the crowd and he stood, nodding politely. As she stepped forward, he held out his hand and said, "Glad to see you got settled in."

She cautiously shook his hand. The last time she'd seen the man, he had been piloting his ship, just before the Empire had 'requested' his presence and spirited him away to the colonized moon of Concordia. Would he be angry with her about the inconvenience? He didn't seem to be.

"So I take it you got all that Imperial business sorted out?" she asked, trying to be polite.

He nodded. "I managed to escape without serious injury, yes. And your cover is officially solid. The Empire has no clue you're down here."

"Thank you." Jay was genuinely thankful. Ever since she'd been sprung from prison, this man, as well as Rame, had given her almost everything; a place to stay, money for food, and a chance at a new future. She was beginning to see why Tammer had trusted them so deeply.

"No problem," he said. "How was your stay at the _Oyu'baat_?"

"It's more comfortable than it looks," she replied. The _Oyu'baat_ presented a misleading face; she'd been genuinely surprised to find that the rooms within the scruffy-looking tapcaf were a little disheveled, but warm, clean, and comfortable.

Vhetin sat back and put his foot up against the table again. "Rame sends his apologies, but he's got some farm equipment malfunctioning, so he can't pick you up himself. He sent me to take you out to the farm so we can begin training."

"Is it all right if I eat something first?" she asked, taking the seat opposite him.

He nodded. "It's fine. I still have some business to attend to in Keldabe before we leave. I was just waiting here so you'd know there was someone to take you out to the farm."

"That was kind," she said.

"Rame's idea," he said. He opened one of his many belt pouches and tossed her a handheld comlink, then stood from his seat. "Contact me on that when you're ready to head out. Calling number is nine-zero-three-four-two-one."

"Okay," she said. "Can I ask what business you're 'attending to'?"

"You could," he said, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

She frowned after him, more than a little startled by his odd behavior. A few moments later, Aramis appeared, holding a bowl of what looked like a lumpy gray porridge with dark scarlet sauce. He set it in front of her and said, "Easy breakfast with _clean_ _dishes_, as ordered. _Haili_ _cetare_."

He was about to leave, but she touched his arm and asked quietly, "That man… who is he?"

"Who?" Aramis looked around the tapcaf. "Stripes? Oh, he's one of them _beroyas_, bounty hunters. He's one of our most well known _vode_ galaxy-wide as far as effectiveness goes. He's right up there with ol' _Bob'ika_ – uh, that would probably be Boba Fett to you, or 'you bastard' if you ever actually met him on a hunt."

"But who _is_ he?" she pressed. "I mean, he broke me out of prison. I'd like to know why."

Aramis frowned thoughtfully. "I can't honestly say. He's a mystery to everyone. Some people say he's Rame's adopted son, and other people believe he's a more recent conversion to our glamorous Mandalorian way of life. All I know is that he's freaky fast with any kind of blade and downright terrifying with one of them _jetti'kads_."

"_Jetti'kads_?" Jay echoed, clumsily repeating the foreign word.

Aramis nodded. "Yeah. A lightsaber? I seen him practicing with one he made himself. The blade comes out of the top of a staff about this high," he indicated a height about shoulder-level, "and it can slice the arms off a rancor, I'd be willing to bet."

"Does he have any family?" she asked, staring at the spot where the man had disappeared. "You know, a brother, a girlfriend, a son or daughter? Something like that?"

The bartender shook his head. "Nope. Nothing like that, although rumor has it he's got kind of a thing with Brianna."

"Brianna? Who's that? Another bounty hunter?"

"Yeah, she's another bounty hunter. _Aruetii,_ but good enough with a gun for that not to matter much. She lives near the outskirts of Keldabe. Charming girl; almost as good a _beroya_ as Vhetin himself. It's no wonder he likes her. But then again, that's just rumor."

"And what about fact?" she asked.

"Not much in the way of fact when it comes to Stripes. Some people say that even _he_ doesn't know who he really is.

"But I do know he's a loner. He doesn't really talk much, except to Rame and Brianna and a few others. Some people say he used to hunt fugitive Jedi, but I think that's just because of the whole lightsaber thing. He's got a mind of metal and a heart of ice, that one, as well as an instinct for hunting. He's a natural at what he does."

Jay shuddered slightly and thought_, and_ _what_ _he_ _does_ _is_ _hunt_ _people_.

"Can he be trusted?" she asked.

Aramis stared at the door to the tapcaf, a thoughtful frown creasing his face. "Now that is a very good question. And it's one I don't think anyone here has the answer to. I don't hunt, so I personally don't know him well enough to know. But I know he is fiercely proud of being a Mando and that Rame trusts him. Apart from that-"

"He's a patriot?"

Aramis shrugged. "Not so much a patriot as… well, he's proud to be Mandalorian. But he's also a little strange, you know?"

"Yeah, I got that impression as well," she agreed. "He is different."

"The offhand term for it, I believe, is 'badass.' Enjoy your breakfast.

He turned back towards the bar, where a gray-green armored Mando was calling for him. Jay frowned as she began to eat, more worried than enlightened.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere<strong> **outside** **Keldabe, Mandalore**

A half-hour later, and she was racing over the countryside on a rented speeder bike, flying for Rame's farm. Vhetin, a black smear against the green landscape around him, was just ahead of her.

"Try to keep up," he said quietly over the comlink he'd given her. "Rame doesn't reward tardiness."

"I can handle myself on a bike," she told him. "But it would help if you told me where we're going. As it is, I barely know which direction we're headed."

"We're almost there," he reassured her. "Just keep tight on my tail and you'll be fine."

And with that, he gunned the engines of his bike and shot ahead. She cursed quietly and raced after him, pushing the old bike as fast as it would go. After a few moments, she caught up with him.

"So tell me," she said. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Rame's farm," he replied. "That's where you'll be training."

"Yeah, I know that. Could you be more specific?"

Vhetin kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead of him. "He works on a grassgrain farm that we've used to practice for years. I suspect Rame will show you around when we get there. It's really nothing special."

He sped past there again, obviously done talking. She sighed and followed. After some time they passed around a copse of trees and Jay saw the brown smear of a building in the distance, surrounded by fields of waving grassgrain stalks.

"That's it," Vhetin said, nodding toward the building as he sped along the rough dirt road. "That's the farm."

Rame was waiting for them on the edge of his farmland, a huge metal hydrospanner in one hand, standing near the building. The building itself turned out to be a small house, with two large windows facing the road and several small sheds spread out around it in a rough half-circle.

Rame was dressed in a dirty, oil-stained coverall over what looked like his armor's black bodysuit. After Jay had skidded to a halt, spraying mud everywhere as the bike wound down, he approached and rested the superspanner over his shoulder.

"You made good time getting here," he said, helping her off the speeder. "How was your stay at the _Oyu'baat_?"

"Fine," she replied, watching Vhetin hop off his own speeder and make instantly for a shed that was built behind the house. As he walked away, Jay saw a long, smooth staff hooked to the side of his jetpack. She instantly remembered Aramis' words.

_The_ _blade_ _comes_ _out_ _of_ _the_ _top_ _of_ _a_ _staff_ _about_ _this_ _high, and_ _it_ _could_ _slice_ _the_ _arms_ _off_ _a_ _rancor, I'd_ _be_ _willing_ _to_ _bet._

_I_ _guess_ _some_ _of_ _what_ _he_ _said_ _is_ _true, _she thought to herself. _But_ _what_ _about_ _the_ _rest? Was_ _he_ _really_ _a_ _Jedi_ _hunter?_

If this man used to hunt down telekinetic, mind-reading, super-fast Jedi, that meant he was good at hiding what he truly was. She'd have to be careful around him; this man was downright dangerous.

She turned back to Rame and said, "I'm ready for our training to start."

Rame smiled and picked up his superspanner again. "Oh no. I'm not going to be the one training you. I'll provide whatever help I can, but it'll be Cin who's your trainer."

Vhetin returned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere with a short metal sword in each hand. "To begin, I'm going to teach you the ways of simple melee combat and basic hunting psychology. Tracking and fighting are some of the biggest parts of bounty hunting. After that, we'll take it to higher levels: shooting, hand-to-hand combat, advanced hunting psychology, even lightsaber combat eventually. And during that time-"

"Wait, I thought _Rame_ was going to be teaching me," Jay interrupted. She had been under the impression that she would train under the tutelage of the friendly, charming Rame. Learning from his uncommunicative, slightly unnerving friend was another matter entirely.

"As skilled as Rame is, he's just a farmer at heart," Vhetin said, turning to look at his friend. "And I've had to pull him out of more tough spots than I care to remember."

"And If you want to learn how to be a good hunter," Rame said, nodding and leaning on the huge superspanner, "you'll want to learn from Cin. I keep telling him he _is_ the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, but he won't listen. He keeps his fair share of respect for Boba Fett."

Jay nodded, then managed a nervous smile. She'd have to take things as they were. She could hardly complain after all the two had given back to her. "All right. When do we start?"

"Right now if you're up to it," Rame said.

"I'm ready."

Vhetin nodded, possibly in approval, and said, "First I need to see what level of melee training you've had already and assess your technique. I think a simple sparring match will do just that. Follow me."

He turned to walk back towards the barn. Jay was about to follow, but Rame grabbed hold of her arm as she passed.

"I just thought I'd warn you," he said quietly, "Cin doesn't really have a... hm, well, let's just say he won't go easy on you. It's not part of his mind set. He's going to give it all he's got."

"What, like he'll actually try to kill me?"

He shook his head. "Hell no, he wouldn't take it that far. But expect to walk away from this with more than a few bruises."

"Right..." Jay glanced after Vhetin, growing more nervous by the second.

Rame managed a strained smile and said, "Don't worry. This'll be a learning experience for the both of you. He's never taught anyone before."

She nodded again and stepped after the other bounty hunter, who had disappeared around the corner of the small house. As she turned the corner, she saw a corral that was built into a duracrete pad, with lines and markings painted onto the ground. _Sparring_ _boundaries_, Jay assumed. _The_ _better_ _you_ _get, the_ _smaller_ _your_ _fighting_ _area. It's_ _meant_ _to_ _test_ _your_ _skills._

Vhetin was standing in the center of the corral, head bowed as he waited for her. When she approached and ducked through the fence surrounding the corral, his head snapped up and he turned toward her.

"Are you ready to start?"

"No," she said, "but I won't get better just standing here, will I?"

"No," he bowed his head slightly. "No you won't."

As she moved closer to the center of the corral, he picked up an armored vest and helmet from beside him. She examined the kit as he handed it to her, turning each piece over in her hands as he handed them to her. The vest consisted of what looked like a nerf leather sleeveless jacket with four armor plates, arrayed into a rough hourglass shape. The helmet was very similar to other helmets she'd seen around Keldabe, but was missing the flag-like rangefinder and had an open-faced T-visor.

"_Beskar_ sparring armor," he explained. "Lighter and not quite as durable as full _beskar'gam_, but it's not like anyone's going to be trying to kill you. Not yet."

She pulled the armored vest on, with Vhetin helping her tie it up the back. He tied it a little too tight for her to be comfortable, but she guessed it was supposed to be like that. Once he was finished, he walked back to the center of the corral and waited. When she pulled on the helmet, her chin almost dropped down onto her chest.

"Whoa! You call this light?" she said, pulling her head up with some effort.

The bounty hunter said nothing, just waited for her to grow accustomed to the extra weight of the armor. When she had finally pulled her head up to look at him again, he quietly said, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, the heavy helmet making her head bob erratically. He pulled his jetpack off his shoulders and set it to one side, along with the staff that was clipped to it. He picked up the two simple-looking swords, handed one to her, and took three carefully measured steps back.

She hefted the blade between her hands. It was of medium weight, easily maneuverable. She had practiced a little with melee weapons when she had been hoping to enter the Imperial army, but she wasn't sure how her casual training would stand up to a bounty hunter like Vhetin.

_Considering_ _the_ _fact_ _that_ _he_ _uses_ _lightsabers_, she thought to herself, _I'd_ _be_ _willing_ _to_ _bet_ _he's_ _pretty_ _good_ _with_ _these_ _simple_ _things._

She expected him to practice or show off his skill to intimidate her, but he just stood there, blade pointed toward the ground, staring at her. She was almost instantly anxious; she had never comfortable being the center of attention. She stammered, "U-um..."

Then the tip of his sword swung up and – in what seemed like the blink of an eye – he was right up in her face, clashing her sword against his with almost unbearable force. She jumped, but quickly regained her wits and began attempting to parry his ferocious attacks. To her surprise, however, she found that he wasn't actually trying to hit her. He was just feinting the whole time. Sometimes the blade would pass within inches of her arm or leg or head, but they were carefully measured to purposely miss.

After a few of his false attacks, she decided to use that against him, to play on that mistake. If he wanted to go easy on her, that was fine. But she sure as hell wasn't going to go easy on him.

She began to try and genuinely attack him, barely trying to block his own feints. But after a few moments she found all her efforts turned aside. She frowned in confusion beneath her sparring helmet and doubled her attacks. She clumsily slashed and stabbed at him to the best of her ability, but he effortlessly deflected her blows, swinging her blade off to the side.

Then she felt his foot hook behind her ankle and pull. An instant later, she landed heavily on her back, a grunt of surprise escaping her lips. She felt the cold steel of a sword blade press against the unprotected part of her armor between her chin and her collarbone.

"Why do you want to be a bounty hunter?" Vhetin asked suddenly as he knelt next to her, sword still pressed to her neck. "I don't think it was your dream as a little kid to go crawling through the underbelly of the galaxy, dragging murderous, immoral scum behind you as you went."

"I've always been a sucker for the armor," she replied sarcastically.

"I'm serious. Why did you choose to come with Rame and me instead of traveling on our own? I need a more in-depth explanation than just 'I want to punish those who punished me.'"

She thought about that for a long time, uncomfortably aware of the sword blade pressed to her neck. After a time, she shook her head and honestly replied, "I don't really know."

He nodded, as if that was all the answer he needed. He stepped back and allowed her enough room to get to her feet. She grunted, rolled over onto her stomach, and pressed a hand against the small of her back, grimacing.

Vhetin just moved back to his starting position in the center of the corral and tapped the blade against his metal shin plate.

"Bounty hunting is not for the weak of heart," he said quietly. He was staring at her through the expressionless faceplate of his helmet, she could tell. "And it is not simply something you do when you find yourself out of a job."

"For _te_ _manda's_ sake," came an unknown voice from the edge of the corral. "Go easy on the woman, Stripes."

"In real life, your enemies don't 'go easy' on you," Vhetin responded, glancing past Jay. "To do so in practice would just soften her up. Get her killed in real combat."

She looked behind her to see who had spoken and saw another Mandalorian with grayish-white armor leaning against the fence. His helmet was hung casually on a post nearby and he was wearing a pair of pale gray gloves made of some kind of delicate-looking leather.

He was maybe in his forties or fifties, with a broad, hard-lined face and short stubble for hair. The face of a clone; she had seen faces like his throughout the Navy for years. He nodded to her and grinned widely, a friendly and sociable gesture.

"Don't worry, _aruetii_," he said in a familiar gravelly, accented voice. "Stripes may not go easy on you, but he won't kill you. At least not on purpose."

"That's a comfort," she said sarcastically as she pushed herself to her feet. "As long as its not on purpose."

The man ducked inside the corral and approached, drawing his own version of her short dueling sword. "Here's a tip: when he attacks from below, try and use his own movement against him. I'll show you. Step in front of me and attack my legs like he was."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to end up on the ground again?" she muttered.

The man grinned and shook his head. "I won't hurt you. But attack slowly. I want you to see what this looks like."

She nodded, her brow furrowing in concentration, and swung her saber slowly at his legs. He matched her slow pace and pushed her blade to the side, away from his right leg.

"Snap his blade away from your legs and step to the side," he said as he demonstrated, "out of the way. He'll go flying past you like a nuna with a rocket up its ass and it'll leave him open for an attack to his back."

"Not if he hears your plan, he won't," Vhetin said.

"Then stop listening," the man called back. "Start blasting some of that Strap music you're so fond of."

Vhetin said nothing, just continued to stare at them. The other man turned back to her and offered her his hand. With a wide grin, he introduced himself.

"Jaing Skirata, at your service."

"Jay Kolta," she replied, shaking his hand. The handshake was friendly, and she couldn't help but smile. "And what do _you_ do around here? Repair ships during the week and work as a Black Sun hit-man during the weekend? Serve drinks at the _Oyu'baat_ and stir up a little galactic anarchy on your day off?"

"You seem to know us _Mando'ade_ pretty well," he said. "But no. I just help Rame out around the farm and occasionally work as a bounty hunter. Now, do you want to send Vhetin flying or not?"

She nodded. "So... just step aside when he jumps at me? That seems pretty simple."

"Nothing is simple in melee combat," Jaing said and sheathed his sword. "Good luck, _aruetii_. Don't forget to move his sword out of the way or he'll still manage to hit you."

She took a deep breath and took a step back towards Vhetin. The black-armored bounty hunter was standing as still as a durasteel post in the center of the corral, his sword blade held loosely in one hand. He tilted his head slightly. "Ready?"

She brought her blade up and nodded. "Are _you_ ready?"

He didn't reply; he just leaped forward. She tried her best to follow Jaing's advice, but just wasn't fast enough. In what seemed like three seconds, Vhetin had knocked her blade aside, punched her in the stomach, and tripped her again.

As she lay on the ground again, holding her stomach and coughing, Vhetin stepped back, a bit more of a spring in his step. It made Jay's eyes widen in disbelief. He was _enjoying_ himself!

She scrambled back to her feet, feeling anger course through her like a cloud of fire.

"That was a good try," the bounty hunter said. "But not quite good enough."

She said nothing in return, just jumped forward and hammered away at his sword.

Four more times she hit the ground. As she scrambled to her feet a fifth time, she let out a shout of anger and frustration and launched herself at him again. She managed to land a weak punch at his helmet, but he just used the momentum to spin and come right back at her. He easily blocked her next furious attacks and said, "good. Use your anger. It gives you strength, focus, in the heat of battle."

"You sound like a kriffing Sith," she snapped as she tried to stab at his stomach.

"The Sith's berserker tactics worked," he said, blocking the stab and whirling her all the way around with his counterattack. "Up to a point."

She let out a shout of rage and jumped at him again. He just stepped aside, using the same move Jaing had just showed her. She whipped around just in time to see him jump into the air, higher than she thought possible, and kick her in the side of the helmet with both boots. She went sprawling, her ears ringing, but quickly got to her feet again and attacked him faster than before. He somersaulted backwards to his feet just in time to block her attack, driven backward by the sheer speed and ferocity of her slashes and stabs.

Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord, all her energy focused into a blinding fog of rage. She was barely concentrating, instead hammering at whatever inch of him presented itself. Still, however, she was unable to penetrated his defense.

"If you let it," he said, blocking a strike to his head with his armored gauntlet and stepping back as she tried to kick him in the stomach, "anger will make you sloppy. Unfocused. Like _you_ are right now."

She tried slashing at his head again. He blocked it and answered with a powerful sidestroke that almost knocked her sword out of her hands. She felt sweat drip down her face as she jumped forward at him again. He made another move to step aside, trying to use Jaing's move on her again.

She saw it this time and swung her sword blade into the direction he was stepping. He had to pivot his blade and spin out of the way to avoid getting cut in the leg. He took two steps back and lowered his guard.

"Good," he said. "You're learning already. This may be easier than I thought."

She let out a shout of rage and made a move to jump at him again. He took a step back, said, "Uh-uh," and drew a long-range blaster pistol from a holster on his hip.

She froze, her eyes instantly fixed on the long barrel of the pistol. The weapon was only inches from her chest. A shot at point-blank range would leave a hole in her the circumference of her arm; she had seen it while serving with the Empire.

She heard Jaing sigh and say, "Ah, _shab_, Vhetin, do you have to?"

"It's a lesson she has to learn," he replied and put a finger on the trigger.

"And... what lesson is that?" she said quietly, her eyes never leaving the pistol.

He sheathed his sword on his belt slowly, calmly. "That in this business a fair fight means instant death. You'll be going up against some of the most wanted scum and hardened criminals in the galaxy. They aren't going to play fair, so neither should you."

"So what?" Jay asked quietly, still staring at the barrel. "Cheat? Like you are?"

"Cheating is fine," he told her, his aim unwavering as he continued to point the pistol at her. "Sometimes it's even the best way to deal with things. But it's more than what's fair and what's not. You have to do whatever it takes to win. To _survive_. You need to be able to kick, bite, pull hair, anything. Don't root yourself in the _ethics_ of battle. There are no ethics in battle, just win or lose. Kill or be killed. You need to sink down to your bounty's level, think like they think, do what they would do.

"For instance," he said, his voice sounding mildly conversational, "I could shoot you right now and not have a second thought about it. Why? Because that's what it takes to win. To live to fight another day."

Her eyes widened, partially in disbelief, partially in fear. "You wouldn't."

"Then you don't know me at all," he said, and pulled the trigger.

It sounded like a bomb had gone off inside her armor and felt like she was hit in the chest with an out-of-control TIE fighter. She crashed onto her back and clutched at her chest, gasping for air. A fire seemed to spread into her arms and legs, and she squeezed her eyes shut, gasping frantically for breath. She tried to sit up, but fell back to the ground.

She saw Jaing come into her field of vision. He put a hand behind her head and helped her to sit up.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked, a sympathetic look on his face. "Wait till you feel the real thing."

She looked down with watering eyes at her chest plate. She saw it was scorched and dented, but whole. The blaster bolt hadn't penetrated, just impacted on the surface.

_I_ _wasn't_ _actually_ _shot, _she dizzily thought to herself, feeling relief course through her body. _He_ _didn't_ _shoot_ _to_ _kill._

She coughed again and glared up at Vhetin. He was standing calmly in the center of the corral, pistol holstered, arms folded across his chest.

"You knew. You knew the shot wouldn't penetrate the armor."

"Yeah," he said calmly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Did you get your first lesson?"

She coughed, still clutching at her chest, and nodded. "I think so. And I'm definitely going to bring a pistol to our next sparring match. Or maybe a grenade."

He nodded back with approval and said, "I look forward to it. Just make sure its a flash-bang grenade for now or you might get hurt. We can move up to using actual explosives in a few months."

She nodded and shakily stood. Limping forward, she held out her hand.

"Good fight," she said. "I learned a lot."

As he reached forward to shake her hand, she kicked him in the groin. He had armor there, but she could tell it still hurt. He grunted and fell to his knees, clapping his hands to the affected area. In a single quick motion, she drew her own borrowed pistol and shot him in the head.

He flipped back head over heels and slid to the edge of the corral, face-down. He tried to push himself onto his knees, fell back onto his stomach, and was still.

Jaing's eyebrows shot up, and he let out a quiet gasp. "Uh..."

After a moment, though, Vhetin grunted and pushed himself up onto his knees.

"You catch on quick," he said, standing slowly. Jay could hear the approval in his voice. He grunted again as he limped over to the edge of the corral and reattached his jetpack, as if nothing had happened. "Too quick if you ask me."

"That's for shooting me in the first place," she replied. "Just so we're even for our next match."

He nodded and held a hand to his helmet. The blaster bolt had hit almost dead-center on his forehead. The armor itself looked completely unaffected, only a blaster burn in the paint showing he'd been shot at all.

He glanced up at her. "Nice shot. I can see I won't have to teach you pistol marksmanship.

Jaing looked at Jay with newfound respect. "Do they teach you that in the Navy?" he asked. "Or was that just a personal touch?

* * *

><p>The next few weeks were repetitive to say the least. Every morning, she would be picked up at the <em>Oyu'baat<em> by either Vhetin, Rame's wife Mia, or Jaing Skirata, and brought to the farm. Sometimes she would talk with whoever was there before entering the dueling circle with Vhetin or occasionally Jaing.

Though the grueling combat lessons were equally painful, she couldn't tell who she enjoyed better as a teacher: Jaing Skirata or Vhetin. Jaing was funny and charming and often mixed his fighting with jokes or taunts, things that made Jay enjoy the time spent training. But while Jaing's sparring matches were usually gentler on her body, she go the feeling that Jaing was going easier on her, and she hated that. She didn't want to be treated like a weakling _aruetii_ – as the locals would put it – she wanted to have the full experience, so she could learn as much as she could.

On her fifth day of training, on a day when the sun was beating down on the corral, making the air shimmer in front of her eyes, Vhetin had tossed her a slightly longer, heavier sword. She had caught it with more skill than previous attempts and asked, "What's this?"

"A sword," he'd said blankly.

"Yes, thanks, I know that," she replied with a glare. "What's so different about it?"

He had picked up an identical sword and swung it in lazy arcs in the air in front of him. "This is a traditional sparring _beskad_. It's heavier and more durable than those simple shortswords we've been using. More dangerous too, so watch yourself."

That sparring session had been one of the most brutal - yet enjoyable - fights yet. Since her first fight, she had picked up the subtle nuances of melee combat quickly, and was able to hold her own against Vhetin's skill, even if she was unable to defeat him. She actually managed to penetrated his guard _three_ _times_. One time, when she scored a slash across his thigh, he had cursed and hopped back, holding his leg. Her _beskad_ had slipped along his black thigh plate and slashed open his leg. She had approached slowly, seeing blood drip down his leg just above the knee.

"Are you ok-?"

She had been cut off as Vhetin spun and slammed the hilt of his saber across her helmet, sending her sprawling. For what seemed like the millionth time already she had felt the cold sword blade press to her neck.

"Don't ever let your guard down," he had told her as he helped her to her feet again. "Not even for me. In the sparring ring, I'm your enemy, and you should treat me as such."

With that, he'd left the sparring ring, limping only slightly, leaving Jay blinking stars from her eyes and pondering over this new lesson.

Vhetin... Vhetin was different. He was different from anyone Jay had ever known over her life. Well, that wasn't quite true; on Corellia she had lived next to a neighbor who owned a moody and reclusive Kath hound. Vhetin reminded her a little of the creature; quiet and content to leave others alone as long as he was left alone. But when he was provoked, he turned into a veritable fighting machine, and nothing could stop him from accomplishing his goal.

He usually said nothing until she was on her back on the hard duracrete of the sparring corral, or limping away and calling a time-out. Then he would carefully explain where she had gone wrong and what she should do to try and defeat him. And he didn't use that knowledge against her; he honestly gave her a chance to take him down. She knew for a fact that he was _not_ going easy on her, but she didn't hold it against him. In fact, she felt like she learned more from Vhetin, even though by now she had new bruises on top of her old ones.

After a week of training, Vhetin added what he called 'hunting psychology' to her training schedule. After their sparring match, Vhetin would send her through the dirt paths that ran through Rame's grassgrain fields. He would give her a ten-second head start, then come in after her. They had stun pistols to use in the eventuality that they came across each other. If Jay was able to stun Vhetin, she would have won.

Within the expansive fields, Jay learned about fear; the fear of being hunted, the fear of losing the target, the fear of knowing they were out there _somewhere_ but not knowing where. During her first attempts, Vhetin had easily tracked her down, planting stun bolts in her back from hidden positions where his black-gray armor blended in with the dark waving stalks of grassgrain.

On her sixth run through the exercise, she began to understand exactly why he called it 'hunting _psychology_'. She was beginning to appreciate her fear, understand what it was telling her, and finally be able to use it to her advantage. When her mind screamed at her that a seemingly empty stretch of path before her was clear, she had listened to that fear. She had backtracked and found Vhetin crouching on a parallel path, aiming steadily between the grassgrain stalks and waiting for her to pass. She had shot him in the side three times with the painful stun bolts, then once more just to make sure he was down.

"Good job," he had panted once he'd stopped convulsing, laying on the ground and holding his side. "I was wondering when you would pick up my strategy."

She had helped the _Mando_ to his feet, saying, "I realized that for all the times you were able to ambush me, I never spotted you running through the fields in the distance. So I figured you were just camping out somewhere, waiting for me to go by."

The next two times, she was able to pinpoint Vhetin's hiding spots within minutes of entering the maze of paths. She was forced to admit that by then, she'd grown a bit of a big head. That night, she had bragged of her victory to Rame and Mia that night, while Vhetin just watched her from one corner. And the next day, she had searched for his hiding spot for over five hours, meticulously picking her way through the huge grassgrain field. When darkness had fallen and she had been forced to give up her search, she had returned to the farm only to find him waiting for her at the back door.

She'd needed no translation to see that her successes in the psychology op were successes only because he had been allowing her to sharpen her skills. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found.

She had learned her lesson, and she now took her victories and defeats with more humility. She understood her error, and was ready to continue.

After the fourth week of her training, their sparring matches had drawn quite a crowd. When the two entered the sparring ring, they were usually joined by Rame, Mia, and Jaing Skirata, as well as two other Skirata brothers, Kom'rk and Mereel, and a red-armored _Mando_ woman who had never introduced herself. This small crowd had watched the sparring matches with interest, calling advice or cheering when she managed to break through Vhetin's guard. By then, Jay had moved to the second-smallest sparring boundary, a space only about a meter-and-a-half wide. She had still never been able to defeat Vhetin, but her skills were definitely improving.

"Good job," Jaing had congratulated her as she'd ducked out of the sparring ring the day before, sweaty and sore. "You almost had him there."

She fixed him with a skeptical look. "What have you been smoking? I never even got close."

"You were closer than you think," Vhetin said, stepping out after her. "I almost broke a sweat."

She laughed and punched his armored shoulder. He had taken the blow, but said, "I'm serious. You're learning faster than I had anticipated."

"A compliment?" Rame said, stepping up as well. "From _you_? Jay, you wouldn't have gotten that much if you _had_ beaten him."

Jay had grinned and laughed, her heart lighter than it had ever been in the past few months. She felt incredibly lucky to be here, in the warmth and sunlight, surrounded by her new friends, laughing and joking.

She had caught Vhetin's gaze as the group broke up and had nodded to him, smiling and trying to put all her thanks into the motion. He had given her a chance at a new life, and she owed him everything.

He had stared at her for a moment, and Jay thought that he didn't understand. But then she saw him nod back, a motion so slight that she almost missed it. Then he turned and walked away without another word. Jay had stared after him for a moment, smiling to herself, then turned away and headed into the farmhouse, where Rame and Mia were serving lunch.

That day had been one of the best in her entire life.

Now, some six weeks into her training, she was currently back in her rented room at the _Oyu'baat, _examining a particularly nasty bruise on her back, only half-dressed. The bruise, as she saw it in the mirror, was a brown-blue patch of skin almost directly between her shoulder blades, shaped like a boot print – courtesy of Vhetin, - and it hurt like hell at even the slightest touch. She set her jaw and tried to stretch, only to be met by a spike of pain through the center of her back. She grimaced, but stretched anyway. As soon as she entered the training ring, the pain would fade, replaced by adrenaline.

Yes, the past few weeks had been a kind of satisfying hell. She knew without a doubt that she was learning, adapting to her new fugitive lifestyle. In fact, she actually enjoyed it, actually looked forward to the next time she could enter the sparring ring with Vhetin or Jaing.

_And_ _if_ _even_ _Mandalorians_ _are_ _complimenting_ _me_, she thought with a smile, _wait_ _till_ _the_ _Empire_ _gets_ _a_ _look_ _at_ _the_ _new_ _Jay._

As she was turning away, she noticed something odd in the mirror.

She had long known that she was in shape, something she almost enjoyed pointing out to her fellow pilots. Many of her male counterparts had been very proud and felt that a woman had no place in the cockpit of a TIE fighter. She had enjoyed showing them that not only could she outfly them, but could shoot better, make better repairs to ships and equipment, rank first in the ship-to-ship kills, as well as occasionally make them drool. Many times as she'd left the simulator or the cockpit of her fighter, her fellow pilots had stared at her with their jaws hanging open in amazement. She knew she was proud of it and didn't care. Pride wasn't such a bad thing every once in a while, especially when the subject of her pride was a useful trait.

But now, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw she was more than just attractive physically; she was genuinely in shape. She could see lithe muscles beginning to form along her belly, and her biceps were not as thin as she remembered them.

She stretched slowly, ignoring the pain, watching these new muscles stretch and change beneath her smooth skin. She grinned as she pulled on a shirt, satisfied that her work was not in vain. Whereas before she'd just been attractive, now she was attractive and could kick ass. She could almost see the Mandalorian-ness in that; she'd be able to use those traits in multiple ways to track her bounties. She could throw everything she was into the hunt, just like Vhetin had taught her a week earlier. She stretched once more, studying herself in the mirror.

Impressive. _Most_ impressive.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A New Routine

**Rame's** **farm, outside** **Keldabe, Mandalore, the** **next** **day**

As she approached the farm by speeder bike once more, Jaing leading her this time, she could see that this would be a different kind of day. A starship had landed near Rame's farm.

An ugly thing, durasteel gray and looking like a misshapen crate with two half-circle wings, it boasted more onboard cannons than Jay had ever seen and sported two separate engines, one above the other. Curving red stripes were painted along the sides, giving it a slightly dramatic look. Jay couldn't see the cockpit viewport; the ship's controls were probably buried deep inside the ship itself to protect to pilot.

As she skidded to a halt and hopped nimbly off the speeder, she nodded toward the ship and asked Jaing, "Whose ship is that?"

Jaing strode over, pulling off his helmet and surveying the ship. He half-smiled and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Oh, now we _are_ in for a treat today, aren't we? Come on and I'll introduce you."

"Introduce me to who?" Jay asked, following the Mandalorian towards the sparring circle.

As they approached the training yard, she heard an odd snapping sound. She paused and waited, listening for it again. There was a murmur of speech, then another loud snap followed by a deep _thunk_.

She turned around the corner of Rame's house to see that the sparring corral had been turned into a kind of makeshift archery range. Vhetin was standing inside, holding an angular black compound bow. A quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder in place of his jetpack.

Standing in the corral with him was a woman Jay had never met before. Maybe two or three years older than her, the woman was attractive, with long brown hair pulled back in a braid, dark eyes, and had a long, faint scar behind her right ear. She was wearing a form-fitting black jumpsuit with what looked like light-grade _beskar_ armor plates with two pistols holstered on her belt. As Jay watched, the woman drew back the string on a bow of her own, sighted for a moment, then let a red-painted arrow fly.

The arrow slammed into the back of a black arrow, splintering the shaft and embedding itself in the other projectile. The woman let out a short "Ha!" and spun to face Vhetin.

"Beat _that, _Stripes," she said. Her voice was smooth and had a strong Coruscanti accent. "I don't think even you can make a shot like that."

"Don't count me out yet..." Vhetin murmured and drew back his own arrow.

Rame, who was leaning against the sparring fence, called out, "I buy lunch at the _Oyu'baat_ for whoever can make the better shot."

The woman turned and tipped her head. "Buying me lunch? That's sweet, _Ram'ika._"

Vhetin loosed his arrow. With a sharp _thwack, _it grazed the red arrow in the side, snapping it in two and sending it flying out of the back of the black arrow. The woman spun and squinted at the target. After a moment, she took a step closer to Vhetin and said, "Well... you missed the ten-ring."

"But I hit your arrow," Vhetin countered, "and shot it out of my other one." He looked over the woman's shoulder. "What do you say, Rame? Be the impartial judge."

Rame rubbed at his chin. "Hmm. It's difficult to say. What do you think _Mi'ika?_"

Rame's wife, a beautiful non-Mandalorian woman named Mia, was sitting on the back porch, skinning a bowl of karras, a kind of lumpy orange vegetable. At the sound of Rame's voice, she looked up and said, "I think it's time you got back to work, _cyar'ika_. This farm isn't going to plant itself."

Rame turned back to the two in the corral and said, "All right, I call it a draw."

The woman sighed in mock-disappointment and said, "Really, Rame? That's the best you could do? When Stripes called you an impartial judge, he didn't mean for the _score_ to be neutral."

"Well, I owe you both lunch, then," Rame said, picking up a pitchfork and turning toward the distant fields.

The woman shrugged and began retrieving her arrows. "Fair enough."

Jaing tapped Jay on the arm and said, "I think now's our chance to introduce you."

They walked up to the corral just as Vhetin was pulling his arrows from the target. He held the splintered arrow up to his faceplate, turning it over in his hands and examining it. Then he let out a quick sigh, pulled the arrowhead, and tossed the twisted shaft onto a nearby stack of firewood. "You owe me a new arrow as well."

The woman grinned. "Bill me."

"_Hm_," Vhetin said in a kind of half-laugh, and moved to set the two bows and their accompanying arrows back in the barn where they belonged.

"Brianna," Jaing said as they ducked into the corral. "A pleasure to see you back in the land of legality. How was the trip to Malastare?"

_Brianna_? Jay remembered Aramis at the _Oyu'baat_ mention her. He'd said that she and Vhetin were involved... in a way. I would be interesting to see what kind of person the ice-cold Vhetin enjoyed spending his time with.

_Wait, what? Am_ _I_ _really_ _sinking_ _that_ _low?_ She mentally scolded herself, warning herself not to meddle in the gossip of mercenaries and bounty hunters.

"Well..." the woman said, resting her hands on her hips, "there was a slight misunderstanding on my part. I was under the impression that the bounty was the same for Yanmushey dead or alive. And I didn't realize that if you cut off a Dug's hand, it bleeds him dry within minutes. So here I am, three thousand creds short of a full bounty, and with a _very_ big mess to clean up in the ship's cages."

Jaing shook his head and held up his hands. "Uh-uh. Clean out your own ship. Normally I'd do anything for a pretty face like yours, but I still have nightmares about the last time I helped you out with that."

Brianna laughed and clasped his forearm in a Mandalorian handshake. Jay was having a hard time believing this woman was a foreigner like her; she had all the trappings of a _Mando_, save for the full body armor; she spoke the language, she obviously got along fine with the other Mandalorians, and she seemed to have the attitude to match.

"It's good to see you again, Jaing," she said, grinning. She had a surprisingly friendly smile for someone with so many weapons.

Jay shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. She couldn't help but feel like she was barging in on some very tight-knit group, a place where she was an intruder, a trespasser.

The woman caught the motion and turned towards her. "And who is this? Another one of your girlfriends, Jaing?"

"What do I look like, a Sullustan?" Jaing replied with feigned indignation. "No, just another stray Vhetin's picked up during his wild romp through the bowels of our lovely Empire."

The former ARC trooper gestured between them. "Brianna, may I introduce Jay Kolta. Jay, this is Brianna, one of the toughest bounty hunters this side of Keldabe."

"Kolta, you said?" Brianna asked as she shook Jay's hand. "There's quite a large bounty on your head. Six thousand creds last time I looked."

"Why would you care?" Jay replied, frowning at the woman's odd form of greeting. "Are you hoping to collect?"

"No. If Vhetin's spoken for you, you're off-limits to me." Brianna smiled and looked over at Vhetin. "I like this one," she said. "Much better than Kalinitch. He tried to shoot me when I first said hi, remember?"

"Will you ever let me forget?" Vhetin replied quietly.

She grinned and turned back to Jay, looking her up and down with a sharp-eyed gaze that only a bounty hunter could pull off. "And where was she when you found her, Stripes? Somewhere bad enough that she got a price on her head for escaping?"

"_She_ was in prison," Jay said heatedly. She felt a sharp surge of anger course through her. She _hated_ it when people ignored her when she was standing right there.

Vhetin walked over to Jay's side and folded his arms across his chest. "And what's the going price for _your_ head, Brianna? Ten thousand?"

"Twelve," she corrected. "Yours is worth eighteen."

"I'm worth seven," Jaing piped in. After a few moments of silence, he quietly murmured, "Not that anyone gives a damn."

"They will eventually," Brianna said. "Once you get in enough trouble to jack the price up over ten thousand."

Jaing gestured to himself. "Look at me! I'm a runaway ARC trooper with a longer criminal record than all you mongrels combined! But no, I'm not a big enough threat."

"Want my advice, Jaing?" Vhetin said in his usual quiet voice. He patted the twin lightsabers hanging from his belt. "Start packing some _real_ firepower."

The man made a face. "No thank you. I have enough pride not to stoop to using _jetti_ weapons."

Jay looked between them, feeling a rush of emotions: dislike for this Brianna woman, gratitude towards Vhetin for defending her, anger at Vhetin for defending her when she could handle herself-

"Um, Vhetin," she interrupted gently. "What exactly are you going to be teaching me today?"

"Today," he said, "we're going to move up to a real combat situation. Well, more or less. We're going to take a trip into Keldabe, up to MandalMotors."

"MandalMotors?" Jay echoed.

"Our foremost technology developer," Jaing explained. "Also known as Mandal Hypernautics. They're based from a big-ass red tower in the middle of Keldabe, you can't miss 'em. They design everything from weapons to starships to new variations of _beskar'gam_, and we're going to see how well you do in their simulators."

"What kind of simulator?" Jay asked. "A flight simulator?"

Vhetin moved away to replace his jetpack. As he adjusted it on his backplate, he said, "Some of that. Some real-time battlefield simulations. And of course, a good old Stunball match. It's time to show Bri what we've been teaching you."

"Good," Brianna said, her face darkening. "I've been meaning to have a nice long chat with Ume'o."

"Uh-oh. What malfunctioned this time?" Vhetin asked as they walked back toward the speeders.

"Damn prototype rotary gun. It overheated and ripped the underside of my ship to hell. I had to use the entire Yanmushey bounty to fix the Blood Lily."

"I'm sorry," Jaing said, shaking his head. "_Blood_ _Lily_ may be the ugliest piece of _osik_ this side of the Hydian Way, but she's a tough old bird."

Jay let out a short breath. "I feel sorry for this Ume'o."

"What?" Brianna said indignantly. "It wasn't like I was going to shoot him!"

Jay settled onto the seat of her borrowed speeder and gunned the engine. Vhetin swung onto his own bike and immediately roared off in the direction of Keldabe, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

Jay started the engines and blasted off after Vhetin, roaring over the terrain, watching the green fields whip past her. After a few minutes, she saw the dark shape of Vhetin's speeder, growing nearer as he slowed down to allow her to catch up.

Her comlink sputtered to life and she heard his voice. "I'll talk to Brianna. She's always like that with new people."

"What are you talking about?" Jay asked sarcastically. "She's utterly charming."

"She'll warm up to you pretty quick. I think you two will get along fine."

"We'll see," she said over the comlink. "Till then, do you mind telling me what Stunball is? Nothing lethal, I hope."

"No, nothing like that," Vhetin said. "Do you remember the old combat simulators in the Empire? The ones where you would have a blaster and shoot at the moving holograms?"

"Of course, I spent hours in them when-" She paused, frowning. "Wait a minute, how do you know about Imperial military simulators?"

"Long story," he replied, swerving to avoid an oncoming speeder bus carrying what seemed to be frozen nerf steaks. "But Stunball is kind of like that, only you shoot at other players, not at holograms."

"With blasters," Jay said, sounding skeptical to her own ears.

"No, not with blasters. With special projectile weapons."

"Projectile weapons aren't much better."

He let out a quick laugh. "Jay, while I applaud your curiosity, you need to _listen_. It's not called 'Killball.' You use a special plastoid projectile that sends an electrical surge through your nervous system. You flop on the ground for a few seconds, then you're back to normal and taken out of the game."

"Hm," Jay said. "And how am I supposed to be good at this? Apart from the exercises in the fields, I don't-."

"Haven't you been listening to what I'm teaching you about dealing with combat situations? 'Always scan for targets,' 'never let your guard down,' 'make sure you find cover; if you're caught out in the open, you're dead.' Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And you already know how to use a pistol," he pointed out. "I have the scars to prove it."

"But-"

"And a bounty hunter's life is full of surprises. If you aren't comfortable working outside of your comfort zone, you won't last long."

Jay frowned as they raced along the dirt road, the city of Keldabe appearing in the distance. "Something tells me that you've rehearsed this little speech."

"All I'm trying to say is that you need to work with new stuff. As long as it's relatively harmless, you should jump right into the fray. A bounty hunter that won't broaden his or her combat horizons is a bounty hunter that doesn't change with the times."

"And that's very bad, right?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Right. But don't worry. I have faith in you."

She glanced over at him. He was staring straight ahead, hunched low over his speeder to reduce wind friction. Because of his faceplate, she wasn't sure if he'd actually spoken. "Do you really?"

"Hell yeah," he replied. "You're my trainee, remember? What kind of good Mando teacher would I be if I didn't believe you could kick some ass and take some names?"

She sighed and gunned her speeder forward, towards the towering walls that surrounded Keldabe's outer city. "I just hope you aren't putting too much faith in me."

As they passed through the huge reinforced gates of the city, they paused to allow the others to catch up with them. As Jay leaned against her bike, she looked around the city. Speeders were flashing past them, almost too fast to see, all the buildings around her seemed deserted, and hundreds of ships were roaring overhead. It looked remarkably busy, even for the capital city of the entire planet.

"There seem to be a lot more people out and about today," she observed.

Vhetin glanced around as well and said, "It's because of the Stunball match."

"What, all these people are heading to this MandalMotors place just to watch us practice?"

He stared at her for a few moments, then said, "Oh. You misunderstood. This Stunball match isn't going to be just us. The entire city is going to be competing, although the matches only allow for forty people to play at a time. The tournament goes on for a week."

"Wait, wait, wait," Jay said. "No. _No_. I was willing to make a fool out of myself in front of just you guys, but the entire city? I don't think so."

"What's the worst that can happen?" he said, shrugging. "You get taken out in the first round and people move on. Most won't even care. It'll be what they expect from an _aruetii_."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. He saw her discomfort and said, "Look; if you're that nervous, I'll be on your team."

"There are teams?"

He nodded. "Twenty two-man teams competing against each other. And if you like, I'll be your partner."

She thought about that. She had to admit, she would feel better with a seasoned bounty hunter helping her out. But she still didn't like the idea of competing in front of the entire city. "And what's so special about surviving?"

He tipped his head from side to side. "Well, apart from the obvious prize of a Verpine SVC-2100 blaster pistol, there's the added bonus of showing Keldabe just how good you're getting at this sort of thing. It's about the _kote_, the glory, of victory."

Jay thought about that. She didn't like the thought of competing in front of the entire city, as well as the hundreds who had flocked to Keldabe to participate or watch the event. But even if she couldn't bring herself to compete in front of hundreds of people, she could shift her attention. Instead of competing to prove something, she could compete to win that pistol. It would take her mind off the attention and get her focused on completing her part in this competition.

Then something occurred to her. She glanced over at Vhetin, a smile playing across her lips.

_Oh_ _he_ is _clever, isn't_ _he?_

"Wait a minute," she said slowly. "I know what you're trying to do here."

He calmly turned back to her. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Don't play dumb," she said, poking a finger against his chest plate. "This is another one of your tests. You're giving me an objective, just like if I was in the military. And you're going to see just how well I perform when told to accomplish that objective; in this case, winning this competition. You're basically telling me to work for this pistol, to hunt it down like I would for a bounty. To fight to claim it."

He nodded, clearly impressed. "Very good. I was hoping I'd been a little sneakier than that, but..."

She held up a finger. "Let's just get a couple things straight. Number one, I don't like being played. Number two..."

She paused, then grudgingly smiled and admitted, "You're actually a pretty good teacher."

She heard a soft laugh over his vocoder, then he held out a hand and said, "So what do you say? Partners?"

She shook his hand and grinned. "Partners."

* * *

><p>After Brianna and Jaing had caught up with them again, they set off deeper into the city. Jay had a hard time keeping up with the others while weaving in and out of traffic. It seemed like all the other inhabitants of the city were heading for the Stunball match.<p>

As she rounded a corner, she found another tall barrier wall. Vhetin and the others were waiting there, held up by a stormtrooper guard. Strangely, the trooper had no weapon.

"Present your identification," the trooper said. His voice was not that of a clone.

"Our armor is enough identification for you, meat-can," Jaing said. "Let us through."

The stormtrooper seemed to debate the wisdom of picking an argument with three heavily-armed bounty hunters, then thought better of it. He stepped aside and sighed, "Enjoy the Stunball match."

As Jay caught up, the trooper held out a hand to her. "Halt. Present your identification."

Her heart rate spiked a little at the sight of an Imperial, but presented a calm face as she nodded to the others, waiting for her on the other side of the gate. "I'm with them."

The trooper sighed as he stepped away again, muttering, "Bloody waste of time."

As she was cleared for access through the gate, she gestured over her shoulder and said, "What was all that about?"

"Keldabe has a series of five concentric barrier walls, each with only four entrance gates situated at the north, south, east, and west sides, in case of siege. The entire city is built like a fortress. So, naturally, the Empire has set up checkpoints at those gates. Just another way of trying to keep us in line."

Jaing snorted. "As if the guards could do anything to stop us from getting through."

"Are you sure it's a good idea for me to be-"

"Don't worry," Vhetin said. "The Empire won't even try to touch you. You're safe here."

They passed through four more checkpoints, each leading deeper and deeper into the city. None of the guards at the checkpoints gave them much trouble, and they were soon inside the final, deepest section of Keldabe. Jaing said most of the space was reserved for MandalMotors testing facilities, but there were a few good cantinas and weapon's shops around as well.

The traffic here was worse than ever; speeders, both moving and parked, had to be navigated with precision and speed. Jay didn't like to envision what a Mandalorian whose bike had just been wrecked might do in retaliation. She found that she had to drive slower and slower as they got closer to what she assumed was the Stunball field.

As she rounded the corner of a block of buildings, however, she had to stop the bike completely and stare upward in awe.

Situated near the center of the city was a colossal skyscraper. A dark rust-red color, the building stretched hundreds of feet into the air, dwarfing all the buildings near it and quite possibly every other building in the city. Near the top was a huge circular spotlight with that same tusked skull symbol she'd seen on the fighters when she'd first arrived. It looked like there was a landing pad situated on the flat top of the building, and there were more of the same sleek silver-black fighters she'd seen in the past taking off and landing from somewhere up there.

"MandalMotors Tower. Impressive, isn't it?"

Jay jumped and saw that Brianna had stopped her bike as well. The other woman was leaned forward, resting her forearms on the handlebars of the bike and staring at the tower. She looked over at Jay and smiled.

"I remember this was the first thing that hit me as I flew over Keldabe for the first time," she said. "I was flying cargo runs, fresh out of the Imperial Academy. When I flew over the city, I almost crashed into another ship, I was so amazed."

Jay glanced over at her. "You trained at the Academy?"

"Washed out is more like it. But yeah, for a while I thought I wanted to be a Navy officer. Keeping order throughout the galaxy, putting down insurrections, becoming the pride of the Imperial fleet..."

She shrugged. "But I moved on to better things."

"Bounty hunting?"

"Got it in one," Brianna said with a nostalgic look in her eyes.

"Let me guess," Jay said. "Vhetin talked you out of joining the Empire?"

She shook her head. "Jaing, actually. Cin didn't even come into the whole picture until a few years after that."

She took one last look at the tower, then said, "Well, we'd better be catching up. We don't want the boys taking all the glory, do we?"

Jay nodded and shot off down the street. After a few moments of winding streets, she came to a grassy, open field, crowded with parked speeders. Vhetin swung his bike into an open space and gestured for them to follow suit.

As her speeder wound down, Jay hopped off of it and looked around her gaze lingering in particular on the huge tower. It's shadow stretched for hundreds of feet, all the way back to the final checkpoint barrier. "This place is amazing!"

"I'm glad you think so," Vhetin said, walking up and following her gaze.

Brianna checked a chrono on her small wrist-mounted datapad and said, "We've got an hour till the match starts. Why don't we show her around? I still have to talk to Ume'o anyway."

It was a short walk to the doors of the huge tower. As they entered, Jay was captivated by just the main lobby. There were exhibits showing suits of armor along one wall, some of it looking thousands of years old, and exhibits of weapons prototypes along another. There were pistols, rifles, rocket launchers, and every other kind of weapon Jay could imagine. There were even a few that she'd used herself and never known they were of Mandalorian make. Down the center of the huge lobby were starships and speeders, ranging from old, ugly-looking cargo haulers to the newest exhibit, the elegant-looking silver-black starfighter.

She paused by a bulky suit of silver-black armor that she'd seen only in history books. There was a frill of razor-sharp nexu quills across the center of the helmet and a segmented chest plate that was vaguely similar to the hourglass shape of Jay's own sparring armor. The helmet was lacking the distinctive T-visor of typical Mandalorian battle helmets, but it sported two equally menacing vertical-slash visors, each situated right where the wearer's eyes would be.

Jaing walked up behind her and folded his arms across his chest, nodding in appreciation. "That was the armor of one of our greatest warriors, a few hundred years before the Clone Wars. You may not know it, but you've got a taste for good armor."

"Who was it?"

Jaing shrugged. "No one knows his name. But his suit still works better than most of our modern armor systems."

Jay turned back to the rest of the group and saw Brianna engaged in a heated discussion with a Mandalorian in green-gray armor. Jaing saw it as well and sighed as Brianna grabbed the man by his chest plate and began shaking him.

"Uh-oh."

"Ume'o?" Jay asked. When Jaing nodded, she said, "I thought so."

As they approached, Jay heard Brianna snarl, "-stuck up _dikut'la!_ Do you have any idea how much your stupid miscalibration cost me?"

Ume'o shook Brianna off and snapped, "Keep your hands to yourself, _aruetii_. I said I was sorry, all right?"

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Brianna shouted.

Ume'o was a tall man, with a bald head and a brow creased by years of frowns and scowls. He looked tougher than a Trandoshan, but he was completely disarmed by Brianna's fury. His voice was quiet and gravelly as he said, "What do you want, then? Money? Another gun?"

"Oh no," Brianna said. "I was one of your best customers. But I'm not buying any more of your stupid prototype weapons for _my_ ship."

Vhetin sighed and shook his head as Jay and Jaing stepped up next to him. He leaned closer to Jay and whispered, "Ume'o's the head technician at MandalMotors. He controls the production of every piece of equipment they export. And Brianna's one of his best customers."

"So why do they hate each other so much?"

Vhetin shook his head. "They don't hate each other at all. They go through a fight like this every few months. It never lasts long, but I've begun to discover a pattern. Pretty soon Ume'o will start to yield-"

Even as the bounty hunter said it, the man snapped, "Fine. Name what you want."

"-and Brianna will make a proposal."

The other woman thought for a moment before a mischievous smile stretched across her face. She put her hands on her hips and said, "All right; we'll settle this with a bet. You're competing in the Stunball match, aren't you?"

Ume'o nodded. "Of course. Why?"

Brianna grinned wider. "Give me entrance into the match – just so I can personally kick your ass without repercussions – and I'll forgive you."

Ume'o thought it over and eventually nodded. "All right. I'll get you in as team forty. Who do you want as your partner?"

Brianna slung an arm around Jaing's shoulders and said, "This bozo should be adequate."

"Bozo?" Jaing echoed.

Ume'o thought over it and eventually nodded. "Okay. But let's up the stakes a bit, shall we?"

Vhetin leaned over again and whispered, "Ume'o's also got a bit of a gambling problem. You'll see."

"What're you thinking?" Brianna asked, a thoughtful frown on her face.

"How about... if you last longer than I do in the Stunball match, I'll pay for all the repairs you've had to make to your ship because of MandalMotors prototypes. What is it, ten thousand creds? Whatever it is, I'll personally pay it."

"Tempting," Brianna said, rubbing her chin. "And if you last longer?"

Ume'o's stern face broke into a grin. "Then not only do I _not_ pay, but you have to have _Blood_ _Lily_ fully outfitted with the newest MandalMotors prototypes at full charge."

"Hm..." Brianna thought over it, then nodded. "Okay. There's no way you can beat me, so yeah. I accept your terms."

They shook on the deal and Brianna turned away, looking satisfied. She turned to everyone else and said, "We should get suited up. You guys up for a nice Stunball match?"

"'This bozo'" Jaing said, "says _haran_ _lek_! Hell yeah!"

* * *

><p><strong>MandalMotors<strong> **Stunball** **field, Inner** **City, Keldabe**

As they had walked past, Jay had gotten her first glimpse of the Stunball field. From what she'd been able to see, it was a huge, tangled maze of durasteel pipes, wooden barrels, and hand-dug trenches, among other things, stretching far off into the distance. It was fenced off with rope mesh on all sides, pinning the competitors within. It looked like more than enough room to wage two-man war against the other players, and she was sure it had been designed to do so. Around the field were a large group of tents, each a private gear tent for the teams. They were low-slung, made of dark brown canvas.

Brianna and Jaing, as an opposing team, split up and headed to their own gear tent, designated with their team number, 40. Vhetin led her to their gear tent, designated as team number 38. As she ducked into the tiny tent, she saw two wooden mannequins bearing black body armor. One set of body armor was cut for a male fighter, the other, obviously female.

As she examined her own suit, she noted that it was lighter than Mandalorian armor and seemed to be made of plastoid instead of metal. Mounted on the head of the female mannequin was a mask made from the same plastoid material. It had two eye-shaped visor holes, similar to that of a stormtrooper's, and a mouth guard that probably held a comlink. A power pack was attached to the back of the mask. That meant the mask probably had a head's-up-display, or HUD.

Vhetin nodded toward the mask. "You'll need that. Rules allow _Mando_ players to keep their helmets, but since you don't have a set of armor..."

She nodded and set the mask aside as she pulled the armored vest over her head. Vhetin helped her put it on, making sure everything was secure. He handed her a gauntlet with a red glowing data pad.

"That's a tracking beacon," he explained. "If we're split up, hit that and I'll be able to find you."

"And vice versa?"

He nodded as he tossed her the gauntlet. She slipped them over her wrists and buckled the armored boots and shin plates. He continued, "See that little number forty in the upper right corner?"

She examined the datapad. There was a little white 40 up in the top left corner. The rest of the pad was situated with what looked like a holographic map of the Stunball pitch. "Yeah. Let me guess, the number of players left in the game?"

"Yeah. Nice guess." Vhetin snapped the chest plate over his jumpsuit and handed her the mask. "You'll probably want to pin your hair up, too. Trust me, more than one bounty hunters have been shot in Stunball because of long hair."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Let's have a look at you," he said, inspecting her armor as she tied her long hair up in a functional bun. "Yeah, you're ready."

"Same with you," she said, trying to sound confident. "Dressed to kill."

He reached down to a table in the corner of the tent and pulled out a pistol. He handed it to her and said, "Careful where you point that. If you get taken out by shooting yourself in the foot, I might have to kill you myself."

When she didn't laugh, he added, "That was a joke."

She sighed and said, "It didn't help. I just want to get this over with. Let's keep ourselves in the game, _then_ focus on winning the pistol, all right?"

"Deal," he said as he holstered his own pistol. "But you won't disappoint me, I know it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm too nervous to pay attention," she said. She let out a quick breath and slipped her mask over her head.

She was used to HUDs; she had been using them in Imperial starfighters for years. But this system was different. As she waited, there was a silent flash of amber light, then holographic words scrolled across the inside of her mask.

Within moments, the HUD began pointing out almost everything about the world around her. It showed her specs of the pistol, polarized when she looked towards a source of bright light, it even showed her Vhetin's heartbeat. She noticed his heart was beating slightly faster than usual. So he _was_ nervous, despite all his 'calm down, it'll all be fine' talk.

She took a few moments to get her bearings with the extra info given to her by the HUD. As she headed for the tent entrance, she checked over her pistol, turning it over in her hands. It seemed to be serviceable, so after a few moments she holstered it on a pack on her body armor's thigh plate.

"They'll give us ammo at the gate," Vhetin explained. "And we can scrounge the ammo from the poor saps we take down."

Jay sighed and muttered, "If we survive long enough."

Vhetin chuckled. "Come on," he said. "It's just a game."

"Yeah. I'm sure it looks that way to you." Jay thought of all the people who would be watching and shuddered again. She didn't want to embarrass herself and prove that she wasn't ready after all. She didn't want to let anyone down.

Not even Vhetin.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Stunball Match

**Stunball** **field, MandalMotors, Keldabe**

Once Vhetin and Jay entered a large, dark shack intended for the competitors, they were instructed to form into four lines, ten people deep. They were issued belts with clips of stunball pellets for their pistols. As she examined the small magazine full of tiny projectiles, the shack was filled with the sounds of clips being fed into the pistols. She felt sweat run down her forehead, her heart pounding in her ears. It was almost time...

A Mandalorian in deep red armor walked in front of them. His helmet was split so his bottom lip and chin were visible, like the helmets of ancient Corellian gladiators.

"Fighters!" he shouted, like a military drill sergeant. He surveyed the lines of potential fighters, his helmeted gaze sweeping over all of them. He gestured to the large wooden door behind him. "Beyond this gate," he growled, "all of you will be poised against each other. Once you're out there, it's every man and woman for himself; your only salvation lies in your fellow team members. Stick with them, keep your eyes peeled, and you may have a chance. If not... well, you're out of the running anyway."

There were scattered laughs throughout the shack. Jay just shifted her feet nervously. She leaned over to Vhetin and whispered, "Why is he taking this so seriously?"

"You should see _meshgeroya_ games We've actually had riots break out because of bad calls."

"Fighters!" the Mandalorian shouted. "Give 'em hell!"

He stepped aside and Jay heard a loud drum beat outside the shack. There was a deep rumble from outside the shack. She felt Vhetin tense in line next to her, and he muttered, "Get ready."

With a loud clanking and screeching, the wooden gate swung open.

Jay saw a tangled mess of pipes in front of her. She couldn't see the end of the Stunball pitch, but was sure it was large; she'd seen that much as they'd approached the shack. If she had to guess, she'd say it was maybe a hundred and fifty feet long and maybe fifty feet wide. There was a set of rickety bleachers along the eastern edge of the pitch, protected from stray pellets by a huge net of microfiber mesh. The rumble she'd heard earlier was the stomping of feet from hundreds of spectators. Cheers went up from the crowd as they saw the shack gate scrape slowly open.

Jay's heart almost stopped dead at the sound of the cheering. She'd always had a problem being the center of attention, but this... this was serious overkill.

_What_ _was_ _I_ thinking? _How_ _could_ _I_ _possibly_ _believe_ _I_ _could_ _make_ _it_ _through_ _this? I'm_ _going_ _to_ _get_ _shot_ _first_ _thing_ _out_ _of_ _the_ gate_!_

Then she glanced over at Vhetin, who was staring straight ahead, face unreadable behind his Mandalorian battle helmet, and thought better.

_I_ _have_ _friends_ _here_ _now,_ she thought to herself. _Friends_ _who_ _are_ _depending_ _on_ _me. Vhetin_ _believes_ _I_ _can_ _make_ _it_ _through_ _this. I'm_ not _going_ _to_ _disappoint_ _him._

Vhetin fed a clip of stunball ammunition into his pistol and said, "When the starting shot goes off, make a break for that durasteel pipe. Take cover there and wait for me."

Jay looked over. To her right, Brianna and Jaing were waiting anxiously for the starting shot. Brianna was shooting barely-concealed glares at Ume'o, who was standing to Vhetin's left.

"We'll be given thirty seconds to get to cover," Vhetin continued. "Then you'll hear a second shot. That means the game's started."

"Then what?"

He nodded to the gladiator Mandalorian. "You heard him: give 'em hell."

Jay nodded, trying to calm her racing heart. Next to her, Vhetin took a deep breath, then muttered to himself, "_Oya_."

She glanced at him. "What does that mean?"

"'Let's hunt.'"

Then the starting shot rang through the air, and Jay's mind was cleared of thought. She just started running for the durasteel tunnel Vhetin had pointed out.

The second shot rang out by the time she was halfway there, far too soon for her comfort. It was immediately followed by hundreds of other shots as the other fighters began attempting to weed out the competition. As Jay dove into the pipe, she heard three different shots hit the metal by her feet.

She got to her knees, covering both ends of the pipe. She hit the comlink inside her mask. "Vhetin, where are you?"

"On my way," Vhetin replied. She heard a flurry of shots, then he dove into the end of the tunnel. He was breathing hard, and he reloaded his pistol.

"Did you get any others?"

Vhetin nodded. "I took out four."

"Only thirty-six more to go."

He peeked around the end of the pipe and quickly ducked back in as four different stunball pellets ricocheted off the metal. "Okay, it looks like we've got a couple _vode_ set up as snipers."

"With pistols?"

He chuckled. "Talented, aren't they?"

He threw his head around the pipe and squeezed off four shots. Jay saw the player count on her datapad dwindle by two. He pulled back and let out an explosive breath, then threw himself out of the pipe, rolling to avoid the inevitable fire directed at him. He reloaded as he rolled, came up to his knees, and emptied an entire clip; Jay wasn't able to see what he was shooting at. He then ducked back into the pipe.

He glanced over at her. "How many are left?"

"Uh... thirty. Ten are out of the running already."

He nodded and said, "All right, how about on three, we move to better cover. We can't get anyone in this damn tunnel."

"On three," she agreed. "Where are we headed?"

He crawled to the other end of the tunnel and carefully peeked around the corner. This time, no shots greeted him, and he soon said, "Okay, there's a stack of wooden water barrels across the way. If we sprint, we can make it in a few seconds."

Jay thought about it, then said, "All right."

She followed him to the end of the tunnel and waited for his countdown. He glanced over at her. "Ready? In three... two... one!"

They threw themselves out of the tunnel and sprinted toward the water barrels. Jay heard stunball pellets impacting into the ground behind her feet. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, her mask's HUD picking out a human silhouette. Barely thinking, she swiveled and pulled the trigger four times. All four pellets hit the man in the stomach and chest, and he fell, writhing as the electricity surged through his system.

"Got one!" she cried triumphantly, beginning to sprint for the barrels again.

"I saw that," Vhetin said, already crouched behind the barrels. "Nice shot."

Jay skidded to a halt next to him, her heart pounding. She peeked around the barrel and saw another Mando sprinting toward the water barrels, probably attempting to claim their cover. She fired six times and the man fell. As she pulled back, she looked over at Vhetin, panting. "I hate to admit it," she said, "but this is _fun_."

Vhetin nodded, keeping an eye on the area behind them. A mando female darted from cover, firing at him as she went. He ducked and the pellets penetrated the barrel above him, spilling water in thin streams. He popped back up and fired once. The pellet impacted the woman in the shin, and she fell with a surprised yell.

"Brianna!" he shouted over the comm. Jay's audio receptors dampened the sound, protecting her hearing. Vhetin's helmeted gaze darted around the area.

"What?" the other woman's voice came over the comm. The transmission was almost drowned out by stunball fire. "I'm a little busy!"

"Have you taken Ume'o down yet?"

There was a pause over the transmission. When Brianna's voice came back, tight with concentration. "As... we... speak..."

There was the snapping pop of a stunball pistol firing, then she cried, "Got him! Ume'o is down and out! Ha!"

Jay saw the player count dwindle from 24 to 23.

"Where are you?" Vhetin asked, peeking out from behind the barrels and scanning the area.

"Jaing and I are-"

There was a long pause over the comlink, the Brianna said, "Nice try, Cin."

"Damn," Vhetin said, amusement in his voice. "Almost had her."

They waited, backs against the leaking barrels. Stunball pellets flashed through the air and the snap of the pistols were all around them. Vhetin glanced past Jay's shoulder.

"Down!" he shouted. She immediately ducked, covering her head, and a stunball pellet flashed over her, missing Vhetin's helmet by inches. He put a hand on her head, keeping her down as he aimed over her shoulder and squeezed off four shots. She heard a shout, and glanced up.

She sat up again, her back thumping against the barrel. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "That was too close."

Vhetin was scanning the area in front of them. After a few moments, he turned back to Jay.

"All right," he said, reloading his pistol. "I'm going to try and narrow down the competition, but I need a favor."

"What?"

He hesitated, then nodded to her hand and said, "I need your gun."

She looked down at the pistol in her hand. "Are you sure?"

He nodded toward a half-buried durasteel pipe. "You can hide out in that until I'm through. I'll be back with your pistol before you know it."

"And if you aren't?"

He shrugged. "Then you'll have to swipe a pistol from one of the players who've been taken down."

She hesitated, then nodded and handed him her gun. "All right, but be careful. I need that pistol back."

He took her pistol and spun the two guns around his trigger fingers a few times, almost looking like a clone trooper. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"On three?"

"Tell you what; you can count this time."

Jay took a deep breath and said, "One.. two... thr-"

Stunball pellets began stitching the barrels over their heads. Jay ducked and covered her head.

"Go!" Vhetin shouted. He dodged out of the way and threw himself in the direction of the pellets, both pistols blazing. Jay saw the player count decrease by three almost immediately.

She dove head-first into the tunnel and peeked out, her eyes level with the ground. She saw Vhetin sprinting from behind the barrels, his pistols spitting pellets in all directions as he spun and fired, seemingly at random.

She froze as she heard the familiar sound of a pistol cycling up behind her. She turned slowly and saw a gray-armored Mandalorian, pointing the pistol at her masked head.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the Mando said menacingly.

Jay's hand drifted toward the sandy ground, searching for something – anything – that she'd be able to use to help out. She was wishing with all her heart that she hadn't given Vhetin her pistol.

She saw the Mando's finger begin to tighten on the trigger just as her hand found something in the sand. A piece of plywood. She gripped it and tensed, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Just as he shot, she whipped her arm up, smashing the piece of wood across his helmet. The shot went wild, ricocheting off the metal walls of the tunnel with loud _pings_.

Her mind was gone; replaced by a flood of adrenaline and panic. She leaped forward and tackled the Mandalorian, pulling the pistol from his hand and turning it on him.

"Damn it!" the Mando shouted before she shot him twice in the chest. He convulsed as the electricity coursed through his system, then fell still, unconscious.

Jay took the man's pistol and searched his body armor for extra ammunition. She found three full clips of pellets and hooked them on her belt.

She let her back hit the durasteel pipe behind her, closed her eyes, and let out a deep breath. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel sweat running down her face. This was becoming less and less like a game and more like an actual warzone.

But then again, that was probably exactly why Vhetin had brought her. To get a taste of real combat.

There was a shuffling of footsteps outside her tunnel, and she crouched down, picking up her wooden weapon again. She waited to make sure it wasn't Vhetin, just so she wouldn't accidentally take out her own teammate. She listened and heard that the footsteps again, closer this time. But they were quiet and stealthy; whoever was there was trying not to be seen or heard.

Jay heard a woman's voice whispering, probably talking into her mask's comlink, and prepared herself to attack again. That was definitely _not_ Vhetin.

Two feet appeared outside the tunnel, and she slammed the plywood into the competitor's ankles. The other fighter, a woman, grunted in pain and surprise as she fell heavily to the ground.

Jay leveled the pistol and shot the woman. The stunball pellet grazed her shoulder, and she began to spasm uncontrollably. When the electricity had run its course through the woman's system, Jay grabbed her under the shoulders and dragged her into the tunnel. She hit the ground with a thump and Jay took her pistol and ammo as well. She tucked the other pistol into the holster on her thigh plate, just in case she lost her other gun.

The woman coughed and groaned. "Ah..."

Jay glanced down as the woman pulled off her mask. Jay felt a rush of shock as she saw it was Brianna. The woman glanced around the tunnel, saw Jay, and seemed to put the pieces together. She grabbed her shoulder, which probably stung from the electricity, and groaned, "Oh... nice shot."

"Sorry, but I didn't know-"

Brianna raised a hand and winced. "Don't. You beat me fair and square. You already took my gun and ammo?"

Jay nodded as Brianna struggled to her feet and began to limp for the exit.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jay asked.

"I'll be fine. Nice shot again."

Jay turned back to the tunnel. Vhetin was still going full bounty hunter/commando/killing machine on the Stunball field. Jay tried to help out, picking off targets as Vhetin drove them from their hiding spots. Eventually, the fire aimed in his direction was too thick and he was forced to dive into the tunnel as well.

He scrambled to his feet and pumped four pellets into the Mando who was stupid enough to chase after him. The man stumbled and fell, twitching, into the dust.

Jay shot at a woman who peeked up from behind a twisted steel pylon. The shot missed, but the woman ducked down again.

"How many are left?" Vhetin asked, reloading both his pistols.

Jay checked the player count. It was lower than she expected. "Seven players. Just how long have we been here?"

"Oh..." Vhetin ducked as four different shots hit the ground near the edge of the tunnel, "I'd say about half an hour."

Jay let out a sigh and sighted on a Mandalorian with a deep green helmet who seemed to think he was safe, crouching behind the leaking water barrels Vhetin and Jay had fled from. She pulled the trigger and two shots spat out of her pistol. The Mandalorian fell onto his back and twitched once, letting out a shout of rage as he did. A few seconds later, he pushed himself to his knees and ripped off his helmet before storming off the pitch, cursing and shouting as he did.

"Might want to be careful of that one," Vhetin observed. "Ill Carid is not someone you want to cross. Raving drunk; you know how it is."

Jay scowled and said, "He's just one more player down. I'll worry about repercussions later."

Vhetin scanned the area, then said, "Tell you what; there's a bonus of two thousand creds for capturing the flag at the other end of the pitch. No one's gotten at it, so what do you say we make a break for it?"

Jay considered this new reward. Two thousand creds would be a nice extra, and it would go a long way to rebuilding her life. Besides, there were only six people left, including her and Vhetin. "Jaing's probably still out there. You think he'll slow us down?"

Vhetin laughed. "Not if you _really_ want those fifteen thousand creds."

Jay nodded. "Then let's go for it."

"I'll cover you; you just get to that flag," he said. "Run as fast as you can, no matter what happens. I'll be right behind you."

Jay nodded again, then said, "On three?"

"Just run."

She turned back to the stunball pitch. _Just_ _keep_ _running_, she told herself, _and_ _grab_ _that_ _flag. Fifteen_ _thousand_ _creds_ _in_ _the_ _pocket_ and _the_ _pistol_.

Then she scrambled out of the tunnel and began sprinting for the opposite end of the pitch. Almost immediately, stunball pellets began impacting around her, but she just gritted her teeth and ran faster. She jumped over a half-buried pylon, stunball pellets ricocheting right beneath her feet. She was vaguely aware of Vhetin right behind her, spraying twin arcs of fire from his pistols as he matched her step-for-step. She turned back to check how he was doing, but he shouted over the comm, "Don't! Keep pushing for the flag!"

She turned and kept running, all her thought and strength aimed toward pushing her legs faster. She saw tunnels, half-pipes, and twisted durasteel girders flashing past her, but she paid no attention to them, or the pellets that filled the air.

"They're heading for the flag!" a gravelly voice shouted. Jaing's voice. "Stop them! They're-"

He was suddenly silenced, and Vhetin growled, "Keep your mouth shut, _di'kut. _It gives away your position."

He sped up, running right alongside her. "Almost home," he said, shooting at a Mando that Jay didn't even bother to look for. She heard a shout and Vhetin triumphantly whooped, "Ha!"

"Almost there!" Jay shouted, seeing a red flag come into view. "Almost-"

Vhetin suddenly stumbled. She glanced over her shoulder and Vhetin shouted, "Go! Go! I just tripped!"

He began sprinting after her again. He'd taken four steps before a stunball pellet hit him in the throat. She heard a dry rasp over her comlink as Vhetin slammed backwards onto the ground. He writhed and twisted as electricity coursed through his system.

"Vhetin!" she shouted and skidded to a halt, taking a step back towards him.

Then she remembered his words: _Run_ _as_ _fast_ _as_ _you_ _can, no_ _matter_ _what_ _happens._

_No_ _matter_ _what_ _happens._

Obviously Vhetin still wanted her to get to that flag, even if he went down in the process. So she turned and kept running. She saw a shadow crouching behind a short durasteel wall. She aimed her pistol as two different shots missed her by inches. She squeezed off a shot and saw the man fall. She heard a familiar shout of rage and she saw that the man was helmetless; it was the same Mando she'd taken out before! Ill Carid, Vhetin had called him.

_He_ _cheated! Vhetin_ _got_ _taken_ _out_ _by_ _a_ _cheater!_

She saw the man struggle to stand again, and she instantly knew the rules no longer applied. This Ill Carid was determined to take her out, rules or not, disqualification or not. So she turned and ran. Just ran as fast as she could. The red flag seemed to shrink further into the distance as she sprinted faster, letting out a yell as she willed her legs to move faster. She heard Carid grunt as he ran after her. Stunball pellets began to impact all around her as he shot again and again. Then she heard a grunt of surprise and a loud crash of armor plates.

She threw a glance over her shoulder and saw that Vhetin had barreled out of nowhere and tackled Carid. He had pinned him to the ground, hands behind his back. He glanced up at her and said, "Go! I'll keep him down!"

Jay didn't slow and finally arrived at the flag stand. She jumped for it and landed in the dirt, her fingers just barely touching the flag. Her mind clouded with panic.

No! She had _not_ gone all this way just to lose inches from the flag!

She crawled the last few inches and wrapped her hands around the flagpole. A colassal roar rose from the bleachers on the sidelines, hundreds of feet stomping, almost making the ground shake. She didn't pay it any mind; her strength was completely drained. She just collapsed and let her mask hit the pole of the flag, panting and trying to draw in a full breath.

"Jay!" she heard a voice shout distantly. "Jay!"

She started and looked around. Vhetin was hauling her to her feet and shaking her, trying to get her attention. "Jay! Wake up!"

"Huh? What?"

"You won, Jay," he said, shouting to be heard over the cheering.

"What?"

"Look at your counter!"

She dazedly glanced at her player counter and saw that it was blinking '1'. She blinked and pulled her mask off, rubbing her eyes and glancing at it again.

It showed the same thing. Not '11', not '12'. But only '1'.

Her eyes slowly widened as she felt Vhetin slapping her on the back in congratulations. "I knew you could do it."

"I won?"

"You won!"

Cheers and boos ripped through the stands, the ground rumbling from the stomping of hundreds of feet. She stared dazedly around herself, not comprehending.

She felt another pistol pressed into her hands. She looked down at saw it was the grand prize: the Verpine SVC-2100 blaster pistol. She'd won it, fair and square, despite Ill Carid's cheating. She'd _won_!

Suddenly Jaing and Brianna were there, laughing and shouting so loud she couldn't even hear what they were saying. Jay was moderately surprised at that; she had shot Brianna while Vhetin had taken Jaing out.

_But_ _then_, she remembered, _it's_ _just_ _a_ _game._

She remembered all the anger, fear, and emotion that had come with this 'game.' How Ill Carid had flat-out broken the rules to win. How Vhetin had taken a pellet while protecting her.

_Just_ _a_ _game, _she thought. _Yeah, right._

* * *

><p><strong>Rame's<strong> **farm, fourteen** **miles** **outside** **of** **Keldabe, Mandalore, later** **that** **day**

Jay was sitting at the round table inside Rame and Mia's small but comfortable house. She had her hands cupped around a mug of a sweet-smelling drink that Vhetin had called _Tihaar,_ a kind of alcoholic fruit drink. Vhetin and the rest of her friends had thought of celebrating at the _Oyu'baat, _but Jay had declined. She was sure she'd had enough congratulations for one day. Her newly won pistol was holstered to her belt, and she now had fifteen thousand credits in a newly opened credit account. She was pretty sure she would be all right for a while; no more sapping off Rame's and Mia's credits, no more living off of the charity of others. She was ready to pull her own weight now.

Right now, she was sipping at the _tihaar_ and listening as Jaing retold his experience within the Stunball pitch.

"-and I'm like, 'Damn it, he knows where I am," Jaing was saying. "So I jump over the wall-"

"I saw that," Brianna laughed.

"-and hit him with at least fifteen pellets! The man was flopping like a _gi_ out of water!"

Jay smiled and looked up. Brianna grinned and said, "And who got a glimpse of Vhetin and Jay there at the end? I don't think Keldabe's seen a finale like that for twenty years!"

Vhetin rubbed his throat. "Yeah. I heard the cheers when I went down."

"It's nothing personal," Jaing said. "But whenever a fighter goes down in a spectacular way-"

"It was hardly _spectacular_," Vhetin said sourly, coughing quietly.

"Don't be so modest," Brianna said, clapping the bounty hunter on the shoulder. "You totally leaned into that shot."

"Technically it didn't even count," Jay said, speaking for the first time since they'd gotten back to the farm. Her voice was hoarse and quiet; she felt like she could head back to the _Oyu'baat_ and sleep for a week.

"What?" Mia said in her soft voice, turning to her. "What do you mean?"

"That Mandalorian, Ill Carid," Jay said quietly. "He cheated. He got back into the fight after I'd shot him."

Rame shook his head and scowled. "He was probably drunk even as the starting shot went off. That man lives across Keldabe from cantina to cantina."

"Vhetin sure took him down, though; tackled him while he was still running," Jay said with a bit of a laugh. She took a larger swig of _tihaar_ and said, "After I got to the flag, I couldn't believe I'd won."

Jaing burst out laughing. "You should have seen the look on your face, _vod'ika_. Your eyes were the size of plates!"

The entire table burst into laughter, Jay included. She was glad that she could be sitting here, with her new friends, instead of rotting away in prison. In fact, it seemed like the more freedom she was allowed, the more she remembered of the stark contrast of prison life. It was good to be able to think of that as the past.

Vhetin suddenly stood and silently left the room. The rest of the people at the table didn't pay it any mind, but Jay glanced after him and asked, "What's with him?"

Rame shrugged. "He's unwinding from the fight. Just like you are."

She nodded distractedly, then stood and walked after him, leaving the rest of the people at the table to their conversation.

She found him standing on the back porch, leaning up against the side of the house with his arms folded across his chest. The sky was dark, and his armor seemed to blend with the shadows, breaking up his outline and making him harder to see. He glanced over as she walked out, then turned his gaze back to the huge grassgrain field. She sat down on the edge of the duracrete porch, resting her aching legs.

"You did a good job out there," he said after a long period of silence. "You deserved to win that pistol, _and_ the fifteen hundred creds."

"No." She shook her head. "_We_ did a good job. I wouldn't have made it through that match without you. I almost didn't."

He rubbed his throat again. "I wish I could say the same."

They were silent for a long time again before Vhetin said, "I guess my faith in you _wasn't_ unfounded."

"I wouldn't say that," she said. "There were plenty of places I could have screwed up."

"But you didn't," he said, his voice tinged with a note of finality. "I still stand by what I said; you're going to make an amazing bounty hunter one day."

Jay wondered about that. During the match, she'd felt all kinds of emotions; fear, anger, blind panic. Sure, she'd won, but was that really because of her skills? Or was it simply luck?

Then she remembered how she'd dealt with the Mando that had snuck up on her in the tunnel. How she'd taken him out of the fight with a simple piece of wood.

Was that what Vhetin was talking about? Her adaptability when under stress? How she always seemed to come out on top, no matter the odds? Maybe what he was saying was that her luck was her greatest strength.

Maybe she _did_ have a chance at this bounty hunting stuff.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, almost looking hesitant. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

"So... when you do go on to be a hunter," he said, "do you want to consider a... continued partnership?"

She looked at him with surprise. He hadn't thought they'd worked _that_ well as a team, did he?

Then she remembered how efficiently they had whittled down their fellow competitors, each of them in their own special way, each of them playing to their strengths. She remembered how this mysterious bounty hunter had guided her through this painful part of her life, when she'd lost everything she'd ever known and loved. How he'd taken an electrically-charged pellet while protecting her, allowing her to win the contest at the cost of his own chance at the prize. How he'd rescued her from prison in the first place.

He had given her so much; it was about time she had a chance to return the favor. So she smiled and said, "Yeah. I'd like that."

She held out a hand to him. "Partners?"

He stared at her hand, then turned his gaze to her. Then he shook her hand and nodded.

"Partners."

To be continued in _Star Wars: White Snow: Initiation_


End file.
